


Everything Left to Say

by MrsKeatingsFanfics



Series: The 'Until the Beginning' Trilogy [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, True Ending Spoilers, genocide run spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKeatingsFanfics/pseuds/MrsKeatingsFanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing the grief they gave their friends and family after running away, Frisk decides its time to come clean about the reasons behind why they did. Even if the consequences prove to ensure nothing but further grief and hatred towards the child.</p><p>Will they still be accepted and loved after revealing the dark secret they carry?</p><p>Or will revealing everything only estrange the most important people in their life?</p><p>Set immediately after the end of 'Determined to the Better End', 'Everything Left to Say' is the second in my Undertale Fanfics trilogy.</p><p>Enjoy~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"...mmmmmmmuhhh..."

Toriel stirred in her sleep, so much so that her eyelids fluttered open and she woke up. Her vision bleary from sleep, a yawn left her mouth as she stretched one arm over her head, her joints and muscles stiff from the position she was in when she fell asleep. She would've stretched both arms, but the tiny hand she kept grasped in one paw kept that arm from moving.

Sorrow washed over her expression as she looked to the young child whose hand she held. Though they didn't look quite as frost-bitten as when she and the others found them, their lips were still blue around the edges, and they were still sound asleep. Briefly, she glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall. It told her that hours had passed since Frisk - and Sans, whom she noticed was also still asleep - had been brought back to her house, and even longer still from when the child and skeleton had been found, half-frozen to death, on Mt. Ebott. Since it was unknown just how long they had been up there, and they hadn't woken up at all yet...

Tears welled in the monster's eyes. Her grip on the child's hand subtly tightened as her free paw covered her snout, stifling the sobs she could feel coming. _P-Please... Please wake up..._ She closed her eyes, causing her tears to overflow as her shoulders hunched forward, and she lowered her head against the mattress. _I c-can't... I can't lose you, t-too..._

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!_

The sound not only roused Toriel from her downward spiral into deeper depression, but also roused Asgore from his slumber. She heard him snort and stammer a "Wh-wha?" before she looked at him over her shoulder. The chair he sat in creaked as he adjusted himself, stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. A low moan leaving his mouth as he ran a paw down his face, his eyes then met the eyes of his ex-wife, worry immediately showing in his to see the tears in hers. "Any change?"

Her head shook side to side as she dried her eyes, and he rose from his seat. "N-Neither of them have woken up yet," she reported, and soon felt a paw on her shoulder. She placed her free paw on top of it. "B-But, at least Frisk doesn't look quite so...c-cold-" _BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!_ "-oh, who on _earth_ could that be??"

"I'll go see who it is," Asgore suggested. Before leaving, he gently squeezed Toriel's shoulder in a comforting manner. "They'll be alright, Tori. Just keep having faith."

Leaving it at that, Asgore exited the first-floor bedroom and made his way to the front door.

Toriel's paw hovered over where Asgore's was on her shoulder. Though years had passed since she left him, she recently found that it did her well to have someone so familiar around to give her comfort in times of distress. She sniffled softly, then rubbed her nose on the sleeve of her dress as her ears caught the sound of her front door opening, and her ex-husband's muffled voice saying, "Yes, who-oh! Mettaton, right? Good afternoon."

"And a lovely 'good afternoon' to you, too, your majesty!" The robot's smooth, metallic voice carried through the walls separating Toriel's room from the front door, reaching the goat monster's ears in near perfect clarity. "And, might I just take this opportunity now to say how very, very, very very sorry I am that I couldn't arrive any sooner."

A low sigh. "Mettaton, please, I'm no king anymore. There's no need to address me as such."

"Details, details! But, we can worry about those later! Aren't you going to invite me in? I so desperately wish to be out of this frigid air."

"A-ah, right, of course. Come on in...oh? Might I ask what's in the bag?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes! It's full of supplies Dr. Alphys asked me to bring from her lab!"

"So, Alphys called you here?"

"You got that right, _handsome_. And, from how she sounded, she needs these urgently! Mind pointing me in her direction?"

"U-Uh...through there. B-But, wait, you shouldn't-!"

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps drowned out Asgore's warning. They grew louder, closer, and knowing how Mettaton was like because of all the programs she'd seen of him on TV, Toriel was suddenly hit with dread. "W-Wait-!"

But she was too late. With a deafening ' _BANG_ ' that made several slumbering eyes snap wide open, Mettaton kicked open the door to Toriel's bedroom.

"Dr. Alphys, darling!" he crooned as he sauntered across the threshold. "I've brought your-"

"NGAA _AAHHH!!_ "

" _Yeeeeowww!!_ "

" _Whoa!!_ "

A flash of aqua zoomed past Toriel's head, nearly sliced Mettaton's face, and almost knicked one of Asgore's horns before the summoned spear lodged itself into the living room wall directly across from the bedroom door, causing a giant crack to form along the plastered wall. Sweat coating the faces of those who just narrowly avoided getting skewered, and even those who hadn't been in the line of fire, all awake stared, wide-eyed, at the one that had launched the spear.

Undyne was on her feet, huffing heavily through sharp, grinding teeth. An intense expression, one reminiscent of when she was in battle, was on her face as she glared down the one she had, subconsciously, aimed the tip of her spear at.

"U-Undyne!" Even though he was clearly shaken from his face almost getting shish kebab-ed, Mettaton kept his voice and tone as calm and collected as if he were on the air. " _Sweetie_ -"

"Don't. ' _Sweetie_ '. Me. You bucket of bolts!" the former captain of the royal guard hissed through gritted teeth. "You should know by now to _never_ sneak up on me when I'm asleep! Not only did I almost skewer you, but I almost skewered Asgore, too! Learn how to make a proper entrance already!!"

In defense, Mettaton pouted and cross his arms over his chest. "Well, how was I supposed to know you'd be in here? As far as I knew, only Dr. Alphys was in here! Ah, good afternoon, Toriel!"

"H-Hello," Toriel stammered, still in a state of shock from the cascade of events that just occurred.

"You could've done the sensible thing and _knocked_!" Undyne argued, her hands clenching into fists.

"Well, the way I see it, that would've been a waste of time!" Mettaton retorted. "After all, I was under the impression this-" He raised the bag he was carrying for everyone to see, before tossing it onto the chair Asgore had been sitting in earlier. "-needed to be delivered A.S.A.P.!"

Alphys, standing behind Undyne, flinched as she heard the pieces of equipment in the bag bang against each other. She flinched even more to hear an angry growl coming from the one she stood behind. "M-Mettaton, Undyne, p-please, c-calm down..."

"Oh, I'll calm down alright!" Undyne snapped. "Just as soon as that prissy primadonna wipes that look of his smug, metallic face!"

"Ohh, I can't help it, darling," Mettaton confessed, looking positively pleased with himself. "You just look _sooo_ cute when you get fussy!"

Undyne's expression made it look like she had just been slapped in the face. " _CUTE?!?_ "

Alphys' expression was of pure horror. "Oh no."

Toriel and Asgore's expressions were alike in terms of both exasperation and tiredness. "Oh dear..."

" _WELL_ , Mr. Tin Man!!" Pushing up the sleeves of her sweater, Undyne began stomping toward the robot, murder in her one good eye. "Prepare to see me become _DROP-DEAD-GORGEOUS!!_ "

Nothing short of chaos ensued after this.

Alphys clung desperately to Undyne, trying to stop her from knocking Mettaton's block off, or at least slow her down. Undyne was basically screeching at the robot as she trudged to him, pulling Alphys along for the ride. Tired from all the madness, Toriel stood between the monster and robot, and gave her best to keep the peace before things got any more out of hand. Asgore tried to do the same, but it seemed neither of the former royals could calm down the friction between the two. And it only became worse, as all conversation devolved into nothing more than a mass of screams and yells-

"WILL EVERYONE _PLEASE_ BE QUIET?!"

-until the voice of one who hadn't spoken up until now instantly quelled the yells and screams of everyone involved, making every eye turn to face the one that had stopped the fighting. "P-Papyrus..."

The tall skeleton was standing now, his tear-filled eye sockets staring deftly at the floor at his feet. He didn't meet anyone's gazes, at least not until after he vainly tried to dry the tears from his face on the back of his gloved hand. "PLEASE...STOP FIGHTING," he begged, meeting everyone's faces with a heartbroken expression. "I KNOW...WE'RE ALL STRESSED-OUT AND ON EDGE, B-BECAUSE WE'RE JUST SO BESIDE OURSELVES WITH WORRY, BUT NOW'S THE ABSOLUTE MOST INOPPORTUNE TIME TO BE FIGHTING!"

He stiffly gestured with his hand to the bed he was previously kneeling beside. "DO YOU REALLY WANT THEM TO WAKE UP, ONLY TO FIND EVERYONE AT EACH OTHER'S THROATS?"

All gazes were cast to the child and skeleton laying in Toriel's bed, both of whom surprisingly remained unconscious after everything that happened after Mettaton's arrival.

It was thanks to Papyrus' words that the rising conflict was quickly resolved. After unwrapping her arms from around Undyne's waist, Alphys cast her gaze down at her twiddling fingers. Undyne looked away and closed her eye, covering her mouth with one hand as she forced a few long, drawn out breaths through her lips. Mettaton, looking admonished, turned his face away and coughed into his raised fist. Toriel and Asgore shared glances between each other before looking down at their feet, both feeling so foolish for letting events escalate out of control so quickly.

Satisfied with the progress thus far, Papyrus breathed a small sigh, and cast one last look to the slumbering duo in Toriel's bed before walking around to its other side, where everyone was gathered. "UNDYNE," he addressed the former captain in a gentle, encouraging voice, "TELL METTATON YOU'RE SORRY FOR YELLING AT HIM. AND FOR ALMOST SKEWERING HIS FACE."

The fish monster cast a sideways glare at the skeleton before, looking like she'd rather bathe in acid, she rolled her eye and muttered, "...Sorry," through her fingers.

Papyrus looked disappointed that she didn't sound sincere enough, but he didn't push it. "IT'S A START. NOW, METTATON-" He turned to the robot, crossing his arms over his chest and wearing an expression like he was scolding a child. "-SINCE YOU BARGED IN HERE SO RUDELY AND WOKE US ALL UP, YOU NEED TO APOLOGIZE, TOO."

"you'd better do what he says, dude. 'cause otherwise, we're gonna have to start calling you... _regret_ -aton."

"EXACTL- _SANS!_ YOU-"

Before he could get a proper statement out, as he - along with everyone else - realized what was happening, the gentle peal of a child's laughter interrupted and captivated every ounce of everyone's attention.

"oh, you like that one, huh? well, here's another one for ya: how well does the robot superstar know his fans?"

The laughter died down enough for the question, "I dunno; how well _does_ the robot superstar know his fans?" to be asked.

"one would hope he knows them well, considering he's... _met a ton_."

The laughter returned, but was muffled by a hand covering the mouth so it wouldn't be too loud. In between giggles, the words, "That was so lame!" were heard.

"it got you to laugh, though. and it got you to laugh so much, there're tears in your eyes. in my book, i consider that a fantastic success."

"Don't you mean a... _Sans_ -tastic success? Hehehahahahaha!"

" _ohhhh_ , i walked into that one. i walked _right_ into that one. heh heh, nice one, kiddo."

Laughter continued, though it remained shared only between the one it had started coming from, and the one who had instigated it. They each laid on their sides, so that they could face each other. The left hand of one and the right hand of the other were joined together on the mattress between their heads, holding each other like best friends would hold hands. The right hand of one covered its owner's giggling mouth. The left hand of the other was reaching over to playfully ruffle the hair of the first. Both wore big, bright smiles, and laughed as though they hadn't a single care in the world.

Then, the one that had told the joke that instigated the other's laughter noticed the persons observing the giggling pair. "yo." With one socket staring back at their faces, and the other closed in a wink, the skeleton nonchalantly waved with his free hand at the group staring at them. "'sup?"

Sans' acknowledgement of the onlookers made the child's laughter slowly come to a stop. The hand holding Sans' subtly tightened its grip. The one covering their mouth slowly moved away from it, fell to the space on the mattress between the pair's bodies. After Sans gave them a look of encouragement, their head slowly moved, turned to face the group they had their back to.

At once, their gazes all fell upon their face, gazes full of tears and slight shock. They returned these gazes with one of their own, one of shyness and slight, suppressed fear. With a shaky smile, the hand that wasn't clinging to Sans' shyly waved at those staring the human child down. "H... _Hi_..."

What happened next could only be described as an explosion of pure bliss.

"SANS!" and "FRISK!" were both yelled out simultaneously as the group of monsters scrambled to get to the laying pair. Papyrus, predictably, was the first to reach his brother, because he basically dive-bombed onto the bed to snatch the smaller skeleton up into his arms before both unceremoniously rolled off the edge and fell to the floor.

The first to reach Frisk was, unpredictably, Mettaton, who snatched the child up before Papyrus completed his dive-bomb, then twirled them away with him into a more open part of the bedroom so he could blissfully spin them around in his embrace.

" _Ohhhh_ , Frisk, you beautiful darling angel child!" he cried out as he spun around in a tight circle, holding them close to his chest as he did. "The instant I heard you'd gone missing, I made absolutely sure every single one of my viewers would spread the word and keep an eye out for you! And now, and now-!" Finally, he stopped spinning, but he did not lessen the strong embrace he had around the human child. "Ohhhh, I'm just so happy I could _sing_!"

Though Mettaton had stopped spinning, Frisk's head hadn't. Cross-eyed and dizzy, the child somehow managed to stammer out, "G-Good t-to see you, t-too, M-Mettaton..."

As the robot continued smothering the child with hugs and affection, and as the child tried desperately to regain their equilibrium, Frisk heard Papyrus' voice, yelling, "SANS DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BADLY YOU AND FRISK SCARED ME?!"

"sorry, bro, sorry," Sans' voice replied, sounding somewhat smothered. "could you, uh, could ya maybe let me go now-?"

" _NEVER_! THIS IS YOUR PUNISHMENT FOR SCARING ME HALF T-T-TO DEATH! I AM NEVER LETTING YOU L-LEAVE MY SIGHT AG-GAIN... OHH, SANS..." A noisy sniffle indicated that Papyrus was starting to cry. "I-I WAS S-SO _SCARED_..."

"...i'm sorry for scaring you, pap." Sans' voice sounded far more genuine with this apology, even though it still sounded smothered. "but i'm here now. and i'm okay. i swear i'm okay. you won't have to worry about me anymore. i'm okay, papyrus, and i'm sorry i made you worry so much about me. i'm okay..."

"Y-YOU'D BETTER BE! OTHERWISE I...I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FORGIVE YOU! D-DON'T YOU EVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN!"

"i won't, papyrus. i promise..."

"Hey, metal head! Let someone else have a turn!"

Having zeroed in on the conversation between brothers for that long a spell, Frisk didn't realize that someone else was trying to get them in their arms until after Mettaton's hold around their body was forcibly relinquished. No longer quite as dizzy as earlier, Frisk's starting-to-refocus eyes looked to find that they had landed in Undyne's strong, muscular arms now, and that she was giving them a fin-to-fin smile.

"Frisk, you wimpy little knucklehead!" she said, sounding like she was holding back tears. "I knew you'd pull through! But you still made me worry that you wouldn't! You know what people get when they make me worry like that?!"

She held them in one arm. The other she held up, her hand formed into a lightly clenched fist. "They get-" Her grin stretched wider, showing a devilish gleam. "-a one-way ticket onto the _noogie train_!"

"Nooooo!!" Frisk cried out in playful horror as they received the noogie of a lifetime, courtesy of Undyne. Of course, with her physical prowess and the child's fragileness, she dared not use her full strength when administering the noogie, but she did it with enough passion to make sure Frisk knew exactly what she was trying to get across to them: That she was so indescribably happy that they were awake and alright.

"I-Incoming!" was all that Alphys said before she hopped up, making Undyne stop the noogie in order to catch the lizard monster in her other arm. A smile on her usually flustered face, Alphys announced, "I'd like a p-piece of this action, too!"

"The more, the merrier!" Undyne proclaimed, then let out a laugh as she hugged both human child and her girlfriend closer to her.

Alphys looked as though the hug had transported her into a state of pure rapture. She met Frisk's gaze, and she asked in a serious voice contradictory to the bliss in her expression, "Really, though, a-are you alright, Frisk?"

Frisk managed a small nod. "Mm-hmm."

"O-Oh, thank goodness." Smiling broadly, she nestled her head against Undyne's shoulder. "I'm so relieved to hear that..."

Mettaton started begging for another turn with Frisk, while Undyne scolded him by saying that he had a long enough turn already. As the two bickered, Alphys dreamily stared up at Undyne's face, and Frisk tuned out the bickering enough to hear a different conversation. This time, it was between the two skeleton brothers, who sounded much closer now, and Toriel, who began it by saying, "May I speak with Sans, Papyrus?"

"O-OF COURSE, YOUR MAJESTY," Papyrus sniffled. Frisk was able to turn their head enough to see that Sans was being held in his brother's arms, much like they were being currently held in Undyne's, but Papyrus had turned him around enough so that he faced the goat monster standing before the two brothers.

"heya, tori," the shorter skeleton said casually, his usual lazy grin on his face. "if, uh, if this is meant to be a private conversation, it's gonna be kinda awkward with papyrus here refusing to let me g-"

He stopped speaking, and surprise registered on his face once he realized Toriel had wrapped her fingers around one of his hands.

"Thank you, Sans," she told him, her voice overflowing with emotion and gratitude. "Th-Thank you so much, for finding them. I... _I_..." Her shoulders trembling, she covered her mouth with her free hand before a sob broke out of it. "I-I'll never be able to...t-to thank you en _ough_..."

From Frisk's angle, they couldn't see the tears she began to shed. They could, however, see Sans' reaction, and saw that his mouth curved into a gentle smile, and that he placed his free hand over Toriel's, squeezing it just as gently. "there's no need to thank me, tori. it was by sheer luck alone that i was the one to find them first. and, trust me, i appreciate the gratitude, but there's no need for the waterworks." His smile became more gentle, more comforting. "for now, let's just be content with the fact that they're alright and home and safe. think we can manage that, tori? for them?"

The former queen shakily nodded before she threw her arms around both skeleton brothers. "S-Still," she stammered through tears. " _Thank you._ "

Sans, initially thrown for a loop by the sudden embrace, smiled broadly before returning the hug. "...you're welcome."

"WOWIE! I'M GETTING HUGGED BY THE QUEEN!" Papyrus exclaimed, a giddy expression on his face as he also returned the warm embrace. " _BEST. DAY. EVER!_ "

"Guess that means you're getting the... _royal_ treatment!" Toriel snickered, causing Sans to pitifully restrain snickers of his own.

Papyrus' expression immediately went from giddy to appalled. " _WORST. DAY. EVER!_ "

"Pardon me, but, might I have a turn?"

Once again, zeroing in on a distant conversation blindsided Frisk to the fact that they were being handed off again. This time, they found themself in bigger, furrier arms than Undyne's, and with vision finally fully recovered from their previous dizzy spell, their gaze met Asgore's face, seeing his shaky smile and tear-brimmed eyes.

"Oh, Frisk," was all he said before bringing the small child close to his chest, giving them a big yet tender hug. "I'm so glad to see that you're alright. You gave us all quite a scare, you know. But, you're home now, and that's all that matters now."

It wasn't like things between the human child and the former king were frigid and hostile, but there was always a certain awkwardness between them when they interacted with each other. Feeling both this awkwardness and a sense of abash, Frisk returned the hug as best they could, but could only just barely wrap their arms around Asgore's broad shoulder and thick neck. "S-Sorry..."

"PARDON THE INTRUSION, YOUR MAJESTY, BUT IT'S IMPERTINENT THAT I SEE FRISK IMMEDIATELY."

Frisk felt a hearty chuckle rumble in the goat monster's chest. "Very well, Papyrus," was all he said before, after squeezing them one last time, he handed the child off into Papyrus' free arm.

Any other day, Frisk would've been fed up by now with getting tossed around between everyone like a hot potato. But today wasn't any other day, so they didn't mind as much. They minded it even less as they were handed off to Papyrus, and they were able to see streams of joyous tears leaking from his sockets.

"F-FRISK, OHH, _FRISK_..!" He had begun lifting them up closer to his face when he stopped, briefly wore a pondering expression, then turned his still wet face down to the person in his other arm. "SANS I'M GOING TO HAVE TO GO BACK ON MY WORD. WHAT FRISK DESERVES REQUIRES THE USE OF BOTH MY ARMS."

"knock yourself out, bro," Sans nonchalantly encouraged as Papyrus placed him onto is feet back onto the floor. "i ain't goin' anywhere."

"Good!" Undyne proclaimed, giving the smaller skeleton a big grin as she cracked her knuckles. "'Cause I got another one-way ticket for the noogie train, and you're name's written _all_ over it, bone-head!"

A nervous sweat coated Sans' round skull. " _help,_ " he wheezed out, his tone half-joking, half-serious, before Undyne caught him in her grasp, and he also received the noogie of a lifetime.

"NOW, WHERE WAS I? AH, YES!" With both of his arms free, Papyrus was able to hold Frisk up in front of his face before, grinning through his tears, he tossed the child up into the air.

A squeal of surprise and delight left Frisk's mouth as they flew into the air, high enough so that they almost touched the high ceiling, yet low enough that they didn't crash into it. Still squealing in their descent, they were then safely caught in Papyrus' hands, brought close to his face again, and once again had to endure being spun around as the tall skeleton giddily twirled around on his heels.

"OHH, _FRISK_!" he cried out as he spun around, causing tears to fly from his sockets. "I-I'M SO INDESCRIBABLY HAPPY TO SEE THAT YOU'RE AWAKE AND ALRIGHT!! I-I WAS SO WORRIED THAT YOU... _THAT YOU_...!"

He stopped spinning now, and held the child so close to his face their foreheads touched. "B-BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE! YOU'RE HOME NOW, SAFE AND SOUND AND WITH US AGAIN! A-AND THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY THAT I DOUBT I COULD BE ANY HAPPIER THAN I AM NOW!" He lowered the child, but only so that he could give them a proper hug as he he held them against his rib cage. "TH-THANK GOD YOU'RE ALRIGHT, FRISK...THANK _GOD_..."

Not quite as dizzy from being spun around by the skeleton than they were when they were spun around by the robot, Frisk managed a shaky smile as they wrapped their arms around his skeletal neck. "I...I'm really sorry for making you worry, Papyrus..."

Everyone's love; though it was showed in different ways, Frisk could feel how much everyone truly loved and cared about them. Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Sans...even Mettaton and Asgore and-

Only one monster was left that hadn't had a turn in showering Frisk with love and affection. Frisk stared at this monster over Papyrus' shoulder, saw that she was standing a small distance away from those gathered around Sans and Frisk, waiting patiently.

"...Mom."

Hearing Frisk breathe this word made a wave of quiet calmness wash over those fussing and showering affection over Sans and Frisk. Looking once to the former queen, then back to Frisk, a knowing look appeared on Papyrus' face before he, gently, placed Frisk down onto the floor. Having not stood up for the entire time they'd been passed around, Frisk was a little wobbly on their feet, so Papyrus' hands hovered around them for the few seconds they took to gain their stability. In fact, everyone inched toward the child the tiniest bit the second they saw them wobble.

Soon enough, Frisk was able to properly stand on their own two feet. And as soon as they were, their eyes turned up to the monster patiently waiting for them.

Her paws were clasped in front of her chest. Tears of joy brimmed her eyes, fell like waterfalls down the sides of her white, furry cheeks. A smile was on her quivering lips, one exuding the joy and love she felt for the human child her tear-stained gaze fell upon. " _Frisk..._ "

Seeing her tears, it finally made some well up in Frisk's eyes. " _Mom_...!"

And not a second more was wasted before Frisk rushed towards the realest mother they'd ever had in their life.

She fell to her knees and opened her arms in time for Frisk to run into them. They wrapped around the child's body and around the back of their head. Frisk's wrapped around the goat monster's neck, their face nuzzling against the soft, white fur in the crook of her neck. Toriel tenderly held the child close to her, nuzzling the side of her face against their head. "My dear, sweet child..." she soothingly whispered, the paw on their head gently smoothing out the ruffled-up brown hairs atop it. "Thank heavens you're alright..."

Hiding their face against her fur proved to be a great way to hide the tears overflowing from their eyes. Sniffling loudly, they nuzzled their face against her more as they could only keep repeating one word through their tears: " _Mom..._ "

Only a handful of perfect moments existed in Frisk's life. And, ironically enough, they had all happened because they fell into the underground. Their 'date' with Papyrus. Gaining Undyne's friendship. Helping Alphys and Undyne strengthen their relationship. Toriel stopping Asgore from fighting them. Everyone gathering near the barrier to give the child their support. Seeing their smiling faces after the barrier had been broken. Standing with them in the light of sunset. Finding a home with Toriel. This... Every moment was important and perfect in Frisk's mind, and this one, right here, started to quickly climb up the ranks, trumping all the others-

"...Was it because of me?"

-until it abruptly came to a screeching halt.

That simple question alone banished the peaceful, joyous atmosphere in the bedroom, replacing it suddenly with a coldness so frigid, it felt as though the walls had disappeared, and the winter chill outside had replaced every molecule of air within the room. It instantly dried Frisk's tears, sent the poor child into a downward spiral of shock and confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?" Toriel continued questioning, her voice free of every emotion but stern seriousness. "Is that why you did what you did?"

Frisk flinched under her sharp tone. "Wha...n-no, Mom! I-It-" With Toriel's arms keeping them against her body, it was hard for Frisk to lift their head away enough so they could clearly answer her. "I-It wasn't like that! You didn't...y-you didn't do anything _wrong_ -"

"Then _why_ in God's name would you do this, Frisk?!"

With both paws on their shoulders, Toriel pulled Frisk away from her and held them out at arm's length. She met their fearfully shaken expression with one that showed nothing but motherly sternness and disappointment, her grip on their shoulders subtly tightening.

"Leaving that note." Subdued anger started rising in her voice. "Disappearing without a trace." Her hands started shuddering. "I-I started to believe I wouldn't find you alive, if I ever even found you at all!"

Hot, angry tears spilling from her eyes and falling down her grimacing face, her grip around Frisk's shoulders tightened greatly as she demanded, "Do you have any idea how _badly_ you scared me?! _Why would you do this, Frisk?!_ "

A tiny, fearful whimper, in accompaniment with a pair of tiny hands held in front of a chest in a sign of defense, instantly broke Toriel's stern, angered expression. She blinked her eyes, and through her tears she saw Frisk's small body cowering under her gaze, tears streaming down their filled-with-fear face.

The anger that arose from her worry had gotten the best of her. She had yelled at her beloved child.

More tears filled in her eyes. Her grip on their shoulders significantly lessening, she turned her head down to the ground, and let out a sob. "I-I...w-was so _afraid_..." she choked out between sniffles, her throat feeling constricted. "I...I've already _lost_...I...I c- _couldn't_ bear the thought...of l-losing you, _t-too_..."

Her hands trembled around their shoulders. They were no longer cowering, but tears still streamed down their face. _M-Mom..._

"...My precious child, _please_..." Sniffling once more, Toriel moved one hand from Frisk's shoulder, and cupped her large palm around the side of their head. "Help me understand..."

Eyes bloodshot and full of sorrow, she brought her head back up to look Frisk square in the face as her thumb gently caressed their cheek. "If the fault wasn't mine, then _why...? Why did you run away, Frisk?_ "

There it was. The inquiry Frisk had been dreading to hear, but knew there would be no way to avoid. There was also no way they could refuse to answer it, either, especially not after finding out just how much grief their actions had inflicted upon the ones they considered their closest friends and family.

They felt everyone's gazes trained upon them, like their sins were crawling on their back all over again. But Frisk couldn't meet even a single one, not even the one belonging to the monster kneeling directly in front of them. The child's gaze was cast downward, their teeth lightly biting their lower lip as they actively kept their eyes downcast and away from everyone else's. "I-I..." Fear taking hold of them once again, the child's tiny hands reached for the white, furry paw cupping the side of their head, clinging to it tightly in hopes that the message of how afraid they were would get across through this simple gesture. "I, u-um...I- _I_..."

Even if Frisk could string together the right words to say, they didn't get the chance to.

Because the mood in the room shifted once again, thanks to the loud rumbles of an empty stomach coming directly from Frisk's belly.

"... _yeesh_ , frisk. you swallow a lion or something?"

Though they knew Sans only said this to diffuse the situation, it sure didn't help Frisk's growing bashfulness. The child's entire face flushed red. They avoided everyone's gazes even more so than moments before. They began twiddling their fingers in front of their chest, looking absolutely beside themself with embarrassment.

"...Food." Her expression one of pure shock, without even a trace of her previous emotions anywhere on it, Toriel blinked the rest of her tears away as she, slowly, came out of her shock. "You're...hungry. You need...food..!"

It was with this revelation that the rest of the monsters in the bedroom became reanimated.

"I'LL MAKE SOME SPAGHETTI!" Papyrus announced before rushing out of the room. "AND IT'LL BE MY BEST BATCH YET! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"That's the spirit!" Undyne agreed, guffawing loudly as she followed after the tall skeleton.

A look of dread washed over Toriel's face as she realized, "Y-You haven't eaten _anything_ for at least an entire day, have you?? _Ohhh_ , my goodness how could I have overlooked this?? D-Don't worry, Frisk!" She gave the child a quick hug and a peck on the crown of their head before getting up and leaving for the kitchen. "I'll make all of your favorites for tonight!"

"THEN IT'LL BE A BANQUET!" Papyrus' voice proclaimed from deeper in the house. "A BANQUET TO CELEBRATE SANS AND FRISK'S SAFE RETURN TO US! AND MY SUPERB SPAGHETTI WILL BE THE MAIN COURSE! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"

"I could brew you some tea while they're preparing the food," Asgore suggested, his pace much calmer and slower than the others' as he left for the kitchen. "Actually, no. It's the perfect weather for hot chocolate!"

"Ooohhh, I could make a cake for dessert!" Mettaton crooned. "And, don't you worry your pretty little head, darling. This one will be human soul free! Ohohohohoho!"

He gave Frisk a mischievous wink, then sauntered out of the bedroom. He didn't get very close to the kitchen, however, when he stopped and stared at one that hadn't yet left the room. "Dr. Alphys, darling, aren't you going to be joining us?"

"I'd love to do nothing more," Alphys absentmindedly replied, the rest of her attention focused on looking through the bag of equipment Mettaton had delivered, making sure that nothing was broken or damaged. "B-But I can't just yet. I need to get back up to Mt. Ebott as soon as possible."

Mettaton crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pursing in curiosity. "Is that why you asked me to fetch those things from your lab? What on earth happened on Mt. Ebott?"

"I have no idea, honestly! All I know is, something blasted a big chunk out of the seal up there, and I need to make sure its integrity hasn't been completely compromised before worst comes to worst." With the bag carrying her equipment securely slung over her shoulder, Alphys made her way to the front door. "If I leave now, I _might_ make it back in time for dessert..."

Her claws barely grasping at the door handle, Mettaton jumped in between her and the door. "' _Might_ '? Oh, tut tut, darling. We'll be up there and back before Undyne can even set fire to the kitchen!"

" _HEY!_ "

Flinching at both Undyne's growl and Mettaton's statement, Alphys stared, wide-eyed, up at the tall robot's metallic face. "Y-You want to go with me?"

"Why, of course, darling! I want to see what happened to the seal, too! Now, let's get a move-on!" With a dramatic flourish, he threw the front door open. "I still plan on making that cake, you know!"

Alphys blinked several times before, sighing, she exited the house. "A-Alright, then. But no cameras!"

"No promises," the robot replied with a mischievous wink, then looked over his shoulder to tell those inside, "Well, we're off, darlings! And we'll be back before the entire house gets set ablaze! Tah!"

"That only happened ONCE and _you know it_!!"

"Undyne, _please_ do not throw any more spears in my house!"

\----

You feel like you just got off of a roller coaster.

Their joy, their fear, their anger, their sorrow; it's all still buzzing around in you like an adrenaline rush. Which makes you grateful for this moment of calm and silence after everyone exited Toriel's bedroom, leaving you alone to process everything that just happened-

"you know you're not getting off the hook that easily, right?"

-well, _almost_ alone.

There's only one other person in the room with you now. He's leaning against the side of Toriel's bed, giving you an expectant look. A frown curving your mouth, and a wave of somberness washing over you, you tell him, "I doubt either of us are, actually."

He gives you a small, acknowledging nod. He knows as well as you do that everyone will be expecting an explanation from _both_ of you. "how much do you plan on telling them?"

Your right hand subconsciously reaches up to rub at your left shoulder, which still feels a little sore from Toriel's strong, worried grip. "All things considering...I think they deserve to know everything."

You wholeheartedly believe in this statement, but the thought of having to explain _everything_ to _everyone_ makes fear claim you once again. How to begin? How to explain in a way that _doesn't_ end up with everyone hating your guts? You feel a shudder run through your body. You start feeling overwhelmed with dread.

"if that's how you want it to be...alright. i'll stand by you on that decision."

Sans' words bring you a brief sense of relief. You look back over to him, and find that he's now sitting up on the edge of Toriel's bed, and that he's patting a spot on the mattress beside him. "but, before you start spilling the beans, i still owe you some bean spilling myself."

You feel your eyes widen. Does this mean he's finally going to tell you about what happened to you after you passed out? You sure hope so, because even though you feel more well-rested than when you woke up earlier, the strange sensation in your chest is still there, and even though it's fainter than before, you're still unsettled from not knowing what it is or what had caused it.

Somewhat eagerly, you scramble onto Toriel's bed, and place yourself in the exact spot where Sans had been motioning you to sit down on. You see him raise one of his hands and flick his wrist, and soon after you hear the bedroom door close behind you. He had used his powers to shut it. It's obvious to you now that, whatever Sans wants to tell you, he wants to tell you in as much privacy that can be attained right now.

You cross your legs and stare straight at him, filled with determination to listen carefully and clearly to every single word he'll say.

"alright then, where should i start?" There's a pondering look in his sockets, then he blows out a deep sigh before beginning his bean-spilling: "well, i suppose i'll start with what i saw when we were still in that blizzard..."

\----

_"I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..."_

_The child's mournful wails echoed loudly into the night, even over the sounds of the raging snow storm encompassing the area surrounding Mt. Ebott. Their entire body shook with each violent sob, and shivered just as violently from the harsh winter gales blowing through them._

_As for the skeleton kneeling in front of them, holding them close in a firm, comforting hug, he wasn't as shaken by the cold as he was shaken by the intensity of emotions filling within his bones._

i know...i know... _Sans mentally assured Frisk as they continued to sob, positive that they wouldn't be able to hear him over their wails and the blizzard around them, even if he did say these words of reassurance aloud. Besides, he was also sure that if he said anything now, he would also break down into a sobbing mess. Frisk didn't need that right now. What they needed right now was to have themself a good, long cry, and for Sans to be there to support and comfort them, to make sure they knew their sorrow was validated. So all he did was continue to hold them close, and rub their back in a soothing manner in place of the words he was too choked-up to say aloud._ i know...

_"I'm really, really sorry, Sans..."_

i know, frisk... _The skeleton sniffled softly, slightly opening his eye sockets to feel tears riming their edges._ i'm sorry, t-

_His tears dried in an instant. His sockets opened all the way. His skeletal hand stopped mid-stroke on their back. The tiniest of gasps broke through his now almost frowning mouth._

_He had seen something when he first opened his eyes. Something that very well may have just been a mirage caused by the flurries of snow stirred up by the winter gales of the blizzard. Something that unnerved and startled him the moment he spotted it._

_Something that looked like a human child with big, red eyes hovering dangerously close to Frisk's body._

_It vanished from his sights the instant after he spotted it. Though he caught just a fleeting glimpse of it, it was enough to put him on high alert. Though it may have just been an illusion caused by the storm, Sans sensed a great, dangerous threat coming from the illusion's image._ wh-what was that?

_"I-I'm...so...rry..."_

_A pressure against his rib cage immediately called his attention back to the child in his arms. Their entire weight was now slumped against his front, and to him, it felt like they could barely even keep their head upright. So soon after seeing that mirage child...was this really just a coincidence?_

_"...got it all out of your system, huh?" he asked, making sure his voice didn't reflect the suspicions buzzing around his skull._

_He barely felt Frisk's head bob up and down._

_"feelin' any better now?"_

_He barely felt them nod again. They had become so weak now..._

_"that's good, that's good," he muttered, suddenly hyper aware of his and Frisk's surroundings. "now, let's get you out of this weather. if i had skin, toriel would skin me alive if i brought you back home as a frisk-cicle."_

_They snickered. That was a good sign. But it wasn't enough to sway Sans' suspicions about the child's sudden fatigue. With great care, he lifted them up into his arms as he got to his feet. With the side of their head against his shoulder, he could see their face again, see how utterly exhausted the small child had become._

_"alright, let's see..." He had to be quick. He had to get Frisk out of this storm. He had to get them somewhere safe. Somewhere where they could rest, and where he could figure out his next move. "tori's place is too far away, even though it's the closest... let's just find somewhere 'round here to wait out until this storm blows over. 'kay?"_

_He glanced back at their face. Utter exhaustion was everywhere on their expression._

_Hiding his worry, he continued talking to them as he walked toward the looming mountain in the distance. He had to keep them alert, keep them awake so that they wouldn't succumb to a sleep they wouldn't wake up from._ just hold on, frisk. keep holding on until i get us up there-

_"_ S-Sans _..."_

_Hearing their wavering voice saying his name made him slow his pace, but only a little. He turned his face back down to look at them, and he saw that a tremulous hand was feebly grasping at the front of his jacket. "P-_ Please _...I..." they shakily muttered through quivering, turned-blue lips. “I don’t...I d-don’t want...another reset...t-to happen...”_

_Their fear was clearer than a cloudless sky. Out of the corner of his socket, Sans saw the red-eyed child once again, but it vanished before he could get a clearer look at it. A fraction of a second after it had appeared, Frisk's hand ceased grasping at his jacket, and fell away from his chest._

_Sans decided this was no longer any sort of coincidence._

_"...it won't."_

_Their breaths grew weaker._

_"it won't happen again, frisk."_

_Their eyes were closing._

_"i swear to you, it won't happen again."_

_They were slipping away. Sans could feel it. Filled with more resolve and determination than he'd ever felt before, his left eye socket began burning blue as he made a solemn vow to the human child in his arms:_

_"_ i'll make sure it never happens again. _"_

\----

True to your word, you made sure every ounce of your attention was focused on Sans as he told you what had occurred after you lost consciousness. Every word, every gesture, every subtle change in tone and expression, every last minute detail; it was all seen and heard by you, and it was done with such precision, you know you'll never forget even the smallest detail.

Still...a part of you regrets that you're going to remember everything Sans just told you with such clarity.

You've become stiller than stone as Sans finishes revealing every last gory detail to you. Your eyes stare widely at his face, which wears not his usual smile, but keeps your gaze in firm seriousness. Even though you've heard and remembered every word he said, your mind feels slow, like an old computer freezing up from trying to process too much at once. It renders you speechless, makes you feel like your heart's stopped beating, like you're not even breathing anymore.

"Y...You mean..." Finally, you find your voice, and it's small and barely audible. "All this time..." Finally, you regain movement, and it's in the form of one of your hands slowly being raised toward your chest. "That was..."

Your fingers tightly clutch the fabric of the front of your shirt, directly over the spot in your chest where your soul resides. "... _inside me_?"

You see Sans' expression darken. "...yes. from the moment you first found yourself in the underground, and for every moment and every reset after... _that_ was inside you."

This confirmation, which hadn't been sugar-coated in the slightest, finally makes everything fall into place.

You feel blood drain from your face. You feel your heart beating erratically against your ribs. Air leaves your lungs in weak, shallow breaths. You feel your body begin to tremble. Still wide-eyed, your gaze slowly falls away from Sans' face, emptily staring at the space between you two. You feel your shoulders hunch forward, and the grip on your shirt tighten. You also feel faint, like your going to pass out, or at the very least throw up.

Above all else, you feel... _violated._

"...i can't imagine how you must be feeling right now, frisk."

Sans' comforting tone feels like velvet against your eardrums. You can't bring yourself to look back at him, though. You fear if you move even a muscle, nausea will completely overwhelm you, make you empty whatever's in your empty stomach right on the spot.

You feel the touch of Sans' bony fingers on the hand not clutching your shirt. "to have something like that inside you for so long, to realize you had no idea how much it had manipulated and used you...it sucks, doesn't it?"

Though the sensation of his cool fingers against your skin brings a soothing effect over you, relieving some of your nausea, you still don't feel like it's safe enough for you to move yet. All you end up doing is pulling the corners of your mouth down into a grimace, and noisily gulping back a lump that had formed in your throat.

You feel his fingers tighten around your hand. "like i said, i can't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling right now...but, do you think you can manage not entertaining those feelings?"

His choice of words confuses you. You make sure that confusion is apparent in your expression as you finally manage to at least turn your head up to look back at him.

Though he's smiling gently, the gleam in his sockets gives off the distinct feeling like he's silently begging you for something. "what i mean is, yes. it's perfectly okay for you to be feeling what you're feeling right now; natural, even. but, instead of letting all the negativity build up and completely consume you, can you try to remember that there's a silver lining? at least for a while?"

Once again, you're confused by his choice of words.

His smile becomes more gentle, and he reaches his other hand up to cup your cheek. "it's gone now, frisk. it's gone for good. it _won't_...it can't hurt you anymore. it'll _never_ touch you again, never again use you to carry out its selfish, perverted desires. we'll never be forced to endure another reset for the rest of our lives. we're _free_. we're finally free. we'll never be pawns in its sick game ever again."

He stares you dead in the eye, and tells you in a voice full of resolute surety, " _you're free, frisk._ "

It's not until after he says these words that you fully understand what the strange sensation in your chest is: Freedom.

Freedom from the parasitic demon you were never aware of.

Freedom from the terrible power it regained from leeching off your soul.

Freedom from being subconsciously forced to carry out its sadistic, murderous will.

You're free.

You're finally _free_.

And now you know the person responsible for giving you, along with everyone else, this freedom.

Tears well in your eyes. You manage a shaky smile. After sniffling once, you scoot close enough to Sans so that you can wrap your arms around him, and repeat the words you now know the reason why you felt the need to say them before: " _Thank you_."

"d-don't sweat it, kiddo." He sounds flustered as you feel him awkwardly pat the top of your head. "really, i only did what anyone else would do in the...situation..."

A few more awkward pats he gives you before, finally, he fully returns the hug you're giving him. "i'm just...so _overjoyed_ it's finally over," he whispers as he hugs you close, his voice sounding constricted. "and that we all made it through in one piece. you, especially, frisk..."

Though you know he can't see it, because your face is smooshed against his ribs, your smile widens. You hear him start to sniffle, and wonder if he's going to start crying. You don't get to find out, however, because a monstrously loud growl comes from your stomach and kills the mood.

"heh heh, _wow_ , frisk." You both pull away from each other; you to cross your arms over your belly, and he to rub at one of his sockets with the heel of his palm. "now it sounds like you swallowed _two_ lions."

You feel heat rush to your cheeks. No doubt they were now the bright red of embarrassment. You realize you're much hungrier than you previously though; that rumble actually hurt.

The sound of the mattress creaking catches your attention. You look to see Sans sliding off the bed, then he grins at you before reaching up to ruffle your hair. "let's see if we can find you something to munch on before we start hearing a whole _pride_ comin' from that belly."

He chuckles as he walks toward the door. You don't make a move to follow. A frown curves your mouth. Your shoulders hunch forward, your head turning down.

"frisk?"

You steal a glance at him. He's standing in front of the door, one hand already on the handle. He's staring at you, concern in his expression.

"Sans..." You're unable to hold his gaze for long. You stare down at the mattress, your arms more tightly hugging yourself. "I...I'm _scared_..."

Your voice cracks on the last word. This is all you have the courage to say right now, so you can only hope Sans is able to figure out exactly what's scaring you.

"...we don't have to tell them right away, y'know."

You flinch in surprise, then turn your head to fully face him. He no longer looks concerned, and is instead giving you his usual wink and grin combo. "right now, their only concern is in making sure you don't keel over from starvation. we can wait to let the cat out of the bag until after we stuff our faces, if that's what you want."

His reasoning is sound, but one part of it makes you furrow your eyebrows in puzzlement. "...'We'?"

He briefly gives you a look that silently says, 'you know what i mean', before it's replaced by one that silently says, 'whoops'. "oh, did i forget to mention? my bad."

He chuckles at his oversight for a few seconds. After he's done with that, he gives you a kind, encouraging smile, and holds his hand out towards you, like he wants you to take it. "when you decide you're ready to tell them...i'll be right there by your side. you're not gonna face this alone, frisk." His smile widens. "you don't have to face anything alone ever again."

You're not sure if he knows this, but his last statement makes more of an impact on you than you thought it would. It impacted you so much, you feel fresh tears come to your eyes. _Sans..._

You dry your eyes on your long sleeves before you scramble off the bed and jog up to him, taking his skeletal hand in yours as you give him a grateful smile. He returns your smile with a wink, then twists the doorknob and opens the door.

"heyyy, how much longer 'til the grub's done?" Sans jokingly asks as you and he leave the bedroom. "we're nothing but _skin and bones_ over here."

"IT WOULD BE DONE A LOT SOONER IF YOU HELPED, BROTHER!" you hear Papyrus say as you snicker at Sans' pun.

"i don't think that'd be the best idea, bro. handling all that food; i just don't have..."

"SANS DON'T DO IT-"

"...the _stomach_ for it."

" _OH. MY. GOD._ "

You almost double over with laughter. After everything you've been through, it feels so good to be able to laugh like this. To be able to laugh and joke and just enjoy the company of those you hold most dear in your heart. And though the burden of everything left to say to them remains heavy, it's easy to ignore for now. For now, knowing that you won't have to tell them straight away, knowing that Sans will be by your side to give you his full support until everything’s said and done...

It fills you with determination.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of abuse/suicide mention

"wow, bro. this really is your best batch yet."

"SANS, I KNOW YOU'RE ONLY SAYING THAT TO STROKE MY EGO. YOU'VE BARELY EVEN TOUCHED A THING ON YOUR PLATE!"

"not true. okay, maybe a little true. just not that hungry i guess. but if you won't take my word for it, take a look at frisk. inhaled an entire plate-full without a second-thought and they're still askin' for seconds."

It was true. Though the child had sampled and ingested helpings of every colorful - some exotic by human standards - dish that had been prepared for this celebratory banquet, Papyrus' main course dish had been one of the only ones Frisk had asked for multiple helpings of. It was a little surprising, honestly. Though it didn't taste as bad as previous attempts, in Sans' opinion, it still had at least ten football fields' lengths to go before Papyrus could consider making a living off of it. Sans wasn't the only one that shared this opinion, as it was obvious that no one else was able to force down more than two or three fork-fulls before they started idly pushing the noodles and meatballs around their plates, to give off the illusion that more had been consumed.

As for Frisk...either the kid was so hungry they lost their sense of taste (and their gag reflex), or they had the world's strongest iron stomach inside that tiny frame.

"G-GOLLY, FRISK," Papyrus gushed, red tinting his cheekbones as he scooped another helping onto the plate Frisk held toward him in outstretched arms. "I KNEW YOU LIKED MY SPAGHETTI, BUT NEVER BEFORE HAVE YOU SO FERVENTLY PARTAKEN IN IT!" A sly expression appeared on his skeletal features. Such a face looked foreign on him. "YOUR ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR ME HAVEN'T ENHANCED, HAVE THEY?"

For a fleeting moment, Toriel looked off-put and aghast. But Frisk neither confirmed nor denied the kinds of feelings they had toward Papyrus. As soon as the second helping of spaghetti schlopped onto their plate (more like thudded with the weight of a tower of bricks not held together by mortar), Frisk had placed the platter in front of them, took a fork, and stabbed it into a meatball before shoving whole thing into their tomato sauce-covered mouth.

"I'LL TAKE THAT AS A- WAIT. I'M NOT SURE EXACTLY WHAT TO TAKE THAT AS." Papyrus rubbed the back of his skull, a would-be brow furrowed in puzzlement as Frisk chewed away at the hard-as-a-rock ball of meat. Eventually, the tall skeleton threw his arms up in a carefree gesture. "I'LL JUST TAKE IT! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"Exactly!" Undyne proclaimed, pounding a fist to her chest. "Accept the good! Accept the bad! But make sure you pound in the faces of those that said the bad later on! Accept all criticism like you're in battle with your fiercest enemy! Accept! Learn! Fight!! WIN!!"

Undyne almost suplexed the table, but didn't even lift it an inch off the ground when Toriel stopped her by giving her a stern scowl. Guffawing loudly, she returned to her seat beside Alphys. One look was cast to the pushed-around noodles on her plate, the next to the human child silently shoveling the noodles on their plate into their mouth. The gaze in her uncovered eye intensified, and without looking away, she leaned close to Alphys, and whispered a grave, awestruck, " _How???_ " into her ear.

"I. Have no. Idea." Alphys whispered back, her awestruck gaze also on the human child as Toriel told them to wipe their mouth when they were done, to which Frisk obediently nodded. Her spine straightened, she cleared her throat, then Alphys returned to the conversation she was having with Asgore. "I still can't figure out what was strong enough to cause such a precarious hole in the seal. A few of my machines picked up traces of magical energy, but that kind of magic...it's _nothing_ like I've ever seen before!"

A thoughtful 'hmm' rumbled in Asgore's throat as he stroked at his beard. "Sans," he said, making the short skeleton look up at him. "You and Frisk were up there before; did either of you see what caused that destruction?"

Many an eye turned to the human and skeleton, who sat side by side between Papyrus and Toriel on one long end of the large, rectangular table made of polished wood. Frisk, their mouth full of spaghetti, didn't say a word. That would be rude. They didn't even look up when Asgore said their name. As for Sans, he gave everyone staring a wink and a shrug. "one of us might've. but, whew, seein' the aftermath of what happened sure was... _groundbreaking_."

Frisk snorted and choked so hard, sauce almost came out their nose.

"...my bad." Sans looked chastised as Frisk coughed and spat out chewed up pasta and meat bits onto their plate, trying to clear their airway. Toriel earnestly patted their back to help with this. "no wise-cracking while you're eating. got it."

Those who weren't choking on their food stared at Sans in annoyance. Papyurs especially. "SANS, YOUR BEING COY AND MYSTERIOUS ALMOST MADE FRISK CHOKE. NOT TO MENTION, IT WAS MY DELECTABLE SPAGHETTI THEY ALMOST CHOKED ON. THAT, IN AND OF ITSELF, IS A TRAVESTY."

No one had the heart to even string together the words, "Your cooking skills are what's a travesty," in their heads.

"ENOUGH BEATING AROUND THE BUSH, BROTHER." Turning in his chair to fully face Sans, Papyrus frowned and placed his hands on his pelvis. "YOU KNOW MORE THAN WHAT YOU'RE LETTING ON. WHAT HAPPENED UP THERE BEFORE WE FOUND YOU TWO?"

Frisk had stopped gagging, but was still short of breath. Without much care for grace or etiquette, they resumed shoveling spaghetti into their mouth, starting with the chewed-up bits they were previously choking on. They didn't say a word. And neither did the skeleton in the chair beside them. Not a peep came from his smiling mouth, which was in its usual curve, yet gave off the impression that it was forced. Not an emotion could be read in his eye sockets, which were in their usual state, yet gave off the impression that they were staring blankly off into the unseen distance.

One of the patrons of the impromptu dinner party finally had enough of the silent treatment. "Well, if that's all you have to say, I'll be off, then."

Many an eye, and socket, looked to the robot standing up from the table, who didn't necessarily _need_ to eat so much as he enjoyed doing so. Frisk kept shoveling noodles and meatballs into their mouth, slowly.

"whatsa matter, mtt?" Sans nonchalantly inquired. "not gonna stick around to have your cake and eat it?"

"Wish I could, darling," Mettaton moaned through pursed metal lips. "But I have rehearsal with Shyren and Blooky in the morning. I need my beauty rest, and I have a very specific pre-sleep regime to uphold."

Frisk's fork came to a stop mid-bite.

"It is a shame to see you go," Toriel sighed, but kept a pleasant smile. "But, you must do what you must do. So, farewell, Mettaton. We have enjoyed your company."

"Safe travels," Asgore added. "It's a chilly night tonight."

"B-Be sure you keep your battery charged!" Alphys warned. "I'm n-not gonna bail you out again if you have a repeat of the Grand Central incident!"

Frisk finished chewing what was in their mouth, then swallowed.

"See ya, bolt bucket," Undyne absentmindedly muttered, her left pinky nail picking out a bit of spaghetti from between her sharp teeth.

"give our love to shyren," Sans requested with a wink.

"AND TO NAPSTABLOOK, TOO." Papyrus added with a wave.

The gentle clatter of a metal utensil against a ceramic plate was barely heard.

"Toodles, darlings!" Mettaton blew a kiss to the seated group as he sauntered to the front door. "And I'll be sure every one of my viewers knows you're safe and sound, Frisk!"

A small hand grasped a paper napkin.

Mettaton tried the knob. The door didn't budge an inch. "Hmm?"

"...You still here, tin man?" Undyne commented, lazily looking over her shoulder to stare through the open archway connecting the dining room/kitchen to the living room/den, where the front door was.

"B-Be off in just a moment!" Mettaton called back, this time forcibly yanking on the stubborn handle. "Just. As soon. As I. Get. This. Open!"

Numerous powerful tugs happened. The door barely budged a centimeter. Mettaton was very tempted to revert to his rectangular form and just break the thing down.

The absorbent material of the napkin was moistened by saliva from a tongue; a trick learned from Toriel.

"Did you check the lock?" Toriel suggested, a frown on her muzzle.

"The lock isn't the problem, your majest-oh. _Ohhh_."

Asgore half rose from his chair, looking concerned. "What is it?"

Mettaton had crossed over to the wide window beside the front door, over which fresh cotton curtains stained a calm lavender were drawn closed. He took a peek behind them. His face went gaunt. "Hah... Guess we all should take a mental note to...check weather reports more periodically..."

Undyne groaned loudly. "WHAT are you even talking about??"

Carefully, the moistened spot on the napkin traced around the edges of a tomato sauce-covered mouth.

"From the looks of it...that storm outside's been at it for hours..." His finger fell away from the curtain. He turned to look at those still at the table. Defeat showed in his uncovered eye. "Darlings...it appears we're-"

The electric lights throughout Toriel's house flickered-

"-snowed in."

-then shut off altogether.

"NYOOOOH HOH HOH HOOOH!!" "it's okay bro i gotcha." "Oh, goodness!" "W-Wah! Wh-Who's arm am I holding??" "That's not my arm that's my LEG!" "H-Hold on a moment, everyone! Keep calm-" "OW! G-Get off my tail!!" "Oops! Sorry..."

An exasperated sigh was heard before the darkness was lessened, banished by the warm orange glow of Toriel's fire magic. The flaming orb danced in her upturned palm, shedding its light on the scene that had unfolded in the power outage.

Papyrus appeared the most spooked by the lights going out. The chair he had been sitting in laid askew on the floor. The skeleton himself sat in his brother's lap, curled up in a fetal position and shaking cranium to phalanges. Sans, looking strained under Papyrus' weight, was patting the back of his chest plate in a comforting manner. Mettaton held a hand over his chest, as if he had just endured a miniature heart-attack. Undyne held her fists in front of her face, looking ready to punch the daylights out of the darkness. Alphys was massaging her tail, on which a red mark start started to appear among the yellow scales. Asgore, wearing a chastised expression, looked like he was searching for the light switch. Only Frisk was completely unfazed by the brief yet sudden blindness.

The napkin had moved on from the area around the mouth. It began tracing the surface area of a pair of lips.

Toriel frowned at her ex-husband in disappointment. "Asgore. Honestly."

Asgore blinked, then suddenly remembered the kind of magic he shared with his ex. "O-Oh, right," was all he meekly muttered before he held one palm upward, and created a second orange fire ball to shed even more light on the darkened dining room.

Toriel rolled her eyes. "I'm going to check the breaker." She walked away.

The napkin was completely stained with spaghetti sauce. The mouth and surrounding areas on the face: clean.

"you doin' alright up there, pap?" Sans asked, looking as though he couldn't take much more of his brother's weight.

Papyrus, who's expression changed from that of a terrified puppy to that of a smug warrior in the blink of an eye, flung his limbs wildly as he scrambled off Sans' lap and back onto his feet. "O-OF COURSE I'M DOING ALRIGHT!" he proclaimed, perhaps a smidge too loudly, too grandly. "NEVER FELT BETTER! A LITTLE BOUT OF DARKNESS CAN NEVER BEST THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!"

The napkin was carefully crumpled up into a ball, then rushed through the air toward the waste bin in the corner. Missed.

"Y-Yeah!" Undyne sounded confident, yet there was an unmistakably frazzled look in her expression. "A real warrior would never let something as trivial and NONTHREATENING as darkness daunt her!"

A chair was silently scooted back. Small feet ghosted across clean linoleum tile.

"How is your tail?" Asgore asked Alphys, looking truly penitent for his blunder in the darkness.

"I'll live," Alphys answered Asgore, letting her tail fall back to the floor. "It m-may bruise, but I'll live."

The napkin ball was retrieved, then rushed through the air toward the waste bin again. Dunked.

"Oh, my. I can't seem to get a signal," Mettaton announced, his hand to the side of his head like he was talking on the phone, but no phone was there. "Storm must've taken out more than the power, it seems."

Small feet silently returned their owner to the chair. The chair was not scooted back into place.

Toriel returned, her hand-made torch casting dancing shadows of her along the walls as she walked. "I fear that we will be without heating and electricity for a while," she reported, a tired frown on her muzzle. It didn't stay for long. It was soon replaced with a care-giving smile. "Well, I have plenty of room and spare blankets; you are all welcome to stay here until morning, or at least until this storm finishes running its course."

Small hands were politely folded in a small lap.

"Such generosity!" Mettaton practically sang. "As to be expected from the queen of all monsters!"

"Hey, thanks for this, Toriel," Undyne said with a grin. "'Cause, really, going out in this weather isssszzzzzzza bad idea! A really bad idea!"

The fish lady chuckled nervously under the warning glares she received by many a monster.

A deep breath was inhaled.

"THEN IT'LL BE LIKE A SLUMBER PARTY!" Papyrus announced, successfully banishing the testy mood that appeared like an uninvited house guest. Papyrus clapped his hands in front of his chest, looking positively ecstatic. "I LOVE SLUMBER PARTIES! AND THIS'LL BE OUR FIRST OFFICIAL ONE WITH EVERYONE TOGETHER ON THE SURFACE! THIS REALLY IS THE BEST DAY EVER! WE CAN MAKE PILLOW FORTS!"

"We can have pillow fights!" Undyne beamed.

"We can swap scary stories!" Alphys grinned.

"We can finish off the rest of the hot chocolate." Asgore smiled.

"We can all have some of my delicious cake!" Mettaton simpered.

"We can all go to sleep at a reasonable hour!" Toriel laughed.

"we can all have a good time." Sans smirked.

A deep breath was exhaled, through a mouth that smiled in no way, shape, or form.

"...Okay."

Every monster in the house froze, their smiles and grins and smirks becoming ghosts of what they once were. Even the deaf wouldn't mistake the tone in the soft voice that just spoken. It was a tone filled to the brim with the one thing monsters could not safely possess on their own, the one thing humans never seemed to run out of, the one thing that belonged to the human child that changed the worlds of monsters and humans forever.

It was a tone filled with determination.

Every eye and socket fell on Frisk. This had been the first time they'd really spoken up since the 'banquet' began, since they left Toriel's room, actually. The child did not return any of the eyes on them. They looked straight ahead, gaze focused yet unfocused on anything in particular. Their mouth was set in a firm line. They sat rigidly in their chair, in a way that gave off vibes of resolve, like a decision had been made. The way the former royals' flames cast shadows on the child's facial features made them look far older than their actual age. Though every aspect of their outward appearance reflected the determined tone in their voice, the way their hands subtly shook in their lap betrayed the nervousness that bubbled beneath their brave facade.

Only Sans seemed the wiser to the reason behind Frisk's peculiar behavior. "you sure?"

His tone was also strangely determined; a mind-boggling difference to his usual resigned drawl. The shaking in Frisk's hands calmed. The child's head stiffly moved up and down in a single nod. "I'm ready."

The determination remained as potent as ever. Acceptance washed over Sans' features, though the way he blew out a small sigh gave the impression that he hadn't truly accepted anything at all, that he wasn't ready. At least, not as ready as Frisk was.

The other monsters could only stare in utter bewilderment. "Ready...?" Toriel plucked up the courage to ask, her voice feeling dream-like and distant. "For...what?"

Sans and Frisk sat side by side at the table, no more than half an arm's length apart. Sans proved this by silently reaching over and briefly patting Frisk's shoulder; a gesture of encouragement, of support, of friendship. Frisk inhaled deeply through their nose, then finally met the gazes trained upon them.

"I'm ready to tell you why I ran away."

\----

The scent of magic fire eating away at logs of redwood in a well-kept fireplace is nostalgic. So many timeless hours spent in the place called Home within the Ruins of the Underground, when Toriel would read at her chair by the cleanly hearth, the hardwood floor long worn down to a softer grain by many a trodden step weakly creaking underfoot whenever Toriel would adjust her sitting position, the faint aroma of butterscotch and cinnamon and perfectly baked pie crust wafting in from the kitchen. The fire was always so calm, so welcoming, like a mother's embrace after returning home from a trying day at school.

This fire is the only constant between what was then, and what is now.

The warmth you feel from the nearby fireplace is not the only source of warmth you're receiving. A woolly blanket provided by Toriel is draped around your shoulders; you're not sure how she does it, but her blankets always feel and smell like they came straight from the dryer, no matter how long ago they came out of one. A mug halfway full of pleasantly temperate hot chocolate provided by Asgore sits on your lap, kept in place between your palms; it smells and tastes of cocoa, with the slightest hints of cinnamon and something else you can't quite place. Perhaps honey? No, it's much sweeter than that. It doesn't really matter to you what it is.

The additional warmth provided does its best to give you the illusion that you're calm, soothed, at ease. You see through this illusion. Though their best efforts are given, they do little to nothing to calm the hurricane raging beneath the placid mask you wear, ready to crack it like an egg.

Toriel always sat alone in her big, plush chair when she told you stories. You would sit by yourself on the worn-down hardwood floor, gathered near the heat the lit fireplace provides, staring up at the one seated in the chair. Reversed positions proves to be an interesting contrast. Toriel is the one sitting on the not as worn-down hardwood floor, but she doesn't sit there by herself. Monsters of differing shapes and sizes join her on the floor, all gathered near the heat the lit fireplace provides, all staring up at the one sitting on the chair. It's not a chair upon which you sit, though, but rather a pillowy couch. And you're not sitting on it alone. A monster sits directly to your left, barely a breath's distance between your bodies.

You're unable to meet the many eyes trained upon you, studying your every move, memorizing your every change in tone, expression, and position. Your weary yet determined gaze instead focuses on an empty spot in the center of where everyone is gathered on the floor. You swallow lightly, preparing yourself. The taste of spaghetti sauce and cocoa is still on your taste buds. It's an interesting flavor combination.

It's story time. The one you're providing is a far, far more different genre than the numerous uses for snails.

And it's one you plan on never repeating.

"I'll start with a confession." You hear the faint shifting of fabric, bone, and metal. They flinched at your voice. You continue avoiding their gazes. "And it's that this... _isn't_ the first time I ran away from home."

Several breathless gasps. It's hard to tell from who they come from. Though not a one comes from directly beside you.

"Actually, no. I wouldn't call where I ran from my 'home'. So let's refer to it as the place I lived with..." Your grip on your mug subtly tightens. "...my real parents."

One breathless gasp. You know exactly who it's from.

"I say they're my 'real' parents, but if I'm being perfectly honest with myself, I never truly thought of them as real parents. The few lessons I indirectly learned from them - 'Stay quiet.' 'Don't bother anyone.' 'Speak only when spoken to.' 'Don't show your emotions.' - didn't exactly win me over any friends. And every time they yelled at me, scolded me, denied me food, punished me, h... _hit_ me..."

You didn't mean for your voice to crack on that last note, but it did all the same. A phantom pain makes itself known on your left arm, where what felt a lifetime ago a giant, purple-yellow bruise gave you reason to make a point to always wear long-sleeved shirts.

Your right hand subconsciously touches the spot. A brief grimace flashes across your facial features. "Let's just say...I don't want to admit how long it took me to realize they didn't do those things for disciplinary measures."

Only the crackle of the fire makes an auditory reaction to your confession. You feel the cool touch of bone lightly touch the skin on the back of your right hand.

"They.

_Did._

_WHAT?!?!_ "

Finally, your words sink in.

A symphony of pops and cracks from Undyne's knuckles join the whetstone-like grinding of her sharp teeth against each other. "Tell me EXACTLY where I can find these people, Frisk!!" she screeches, with the same fervency as a ruler proclaiming war. "I got a few LESSONS of my own to teach 'em!!"

"H-HOW COULD ANYONE BE SO CALLOUS?!" Papyrus sounds enraged, yet on the verge of tears. "AND TO THEIR OWN _CHILD_!?"

"Disciplinary or not," Asgore remarks, voice gruff and restraining anger. "Such actions are _inexcusable_..."

"O-Oh, my god..." Alphys' voice is somewhat muffled, like she's speaking through her fingers.

"No wonder you were so resilient..." Mettaton gravely comments.

"Oh..." is all Toriel seems capable of saying right now. "Oh..."

"C'mon, Frisk! Tell me where they are so I can BEAT THEIR _STINKIN'_ FACES IN!!"

"WHY HAVEN'T THE HUMAN ROYAL GUARD _DONE_ ANYTHING ABOUT THIS?!"

"They are called 'police', and yes, why haven't they done anything about this _outrage_?"

"I c-can't believe how...h- _heartless_ some humans are..."

" _I_ can't believe our darling Frisk was raised by such abhorrent people..."

" _Oh_..."

"it's very rude to interrupt someone when they're clearly not done talking, y'know."

A part of you feels glad that everyone's reactions are what you expected them to be. The rest of you feels the slightest twinge of annoyance that the flow of your story-telling was disrupted. Neither emotion appears on your face.

You mentally thank the one sitting beside you for getting things back on track. The cool touch of bone removes itself from your hand. You return that hand back to your mug a second later. Patiently, you wait for everyone to settle down and sit still before resuming where you left off. "...I didn't even leave a note the last time. After all, everyone made it pretty convincing that no one would even notice if I was gone. I've made my peace with the place I used to live in with the people I used to live with...by vowing that I'd never go back, no matter what."

The right corner of your mouth turns slightly upward, forming a grimacing half-smirk. "Why else purposefully climb a mountain everyone and their goldfish knew no one ever came back from?"

Silence. Then, the nervous clacking of metallic glasses frames against scales. "Y-Y-You mean...Y-You were...g-going to...?"

Alphys sounds unable to complete the inquiry. You make the answer obvious by decisively turning your gaze to the mug in your lap. There's still faintly visible columns of heat wafting up from the warm brown liquid inside.

"I'm...not entirely sure what I was expecting when I got there. All I was looking for was for an escape; a guaranteed, sure-fire way to make sure I never returned to the life where I was unwanted and hated." A breathless chuckle wheezes out of your mouth. "In more ways than one...I got exactly what I looked for."

Not even the rustling of clothing fabric from an adjustment of position. The one beside you doesn't flinch in the slightest.

You stare deeply into your mug of hot chocolate. Even with the light from the fireplace, it's too dark for you to see any kind of reflection on the liquid's surface. "Falling into the Underground was most definitely nowhere on my list of expectations, however. I mean, I had a vague knowledge of the ancient war between monsters and humans, but I thought they were just legends, like the one surrounding Mt. Ebott. To think; the legends were true, and that hole I dropped down from was the one-way entrance to the world of monsters..."

A ghost of a smile plays on your lips. "I guess that's why I was so quiet and unresponsive the first time. I must've been so mind-blown by how vast a world existed in such a relatively tiny space."

"...What do you mean, 'the _first_ time'?"

Your ghost of a smile becomes just that. A ghost. Vanishing into thin air. Making no intention of re-materializing. Leaving nothing in its wake, save for the small line your mouth instinctively defaults to.

Here it is. The invitation for the first (technically second) big reveal queued up for tonight to make its entrance. And though this queue is comparatively short, there exists no unit of measurement to record how long it is in terms of how strainful and trying it'll be on you, emotionally and mentally.

You turn your head a fraction to the left. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a skull dip down, then slowly return up to its original position. A short, solemn nod. Your hands around the mug on your lap tighten their grip. "...My journey through the Underground," you begin answering, not just to Toriel's question, but to every inquisitive stare you feel trained upon your down-turned face. "I've taken it countless times before. How, you ask?"

You suck in a deep breath through your nose. Cinnamon, cocoa, and burning redwood fill your nostrils. Your head turns up, your gaze meeting the ones boring into you.

"Because I had the power...to reset time."

A sea of faces overtaken by speechless shock lays before your eyes. This sea is more a pond, though. A pond frozen over by the chill of winter. No one is saying anything. No one is expressing anything. They look like they lost their ability to, in all honesty. It's taking longer for this reveal to sink in than the reveal of your life before the underground did. You briefly entertain the thought that they really have gone into shock, that they were going to start dropping like flies soon enough.

"...R..."

"...Re..."

"...set..."

"...time...?"

Thankfully, your briefly entertained grave thought isn't going to come to fruition any time soon.

Shock devolves into varying degrees of worry and disbelief. An expected reaction. "F-Frisk, _darling_ , are you sure you're fully recovered from being out in that dreadful weather for God knows how long?" Mettaton asks, his upper lip twitching.

An expected reaction.

"M-My child," Toriel stammers, looking the most worried out of everyone else as she wrings her paws in front of her chest. "Please, do not take this the wrong way, but..."

An expected reaction.

"Th-The power to reset time," Asgore adds onto where Toriel petered off, perplexedly scratching at his beard of golden hair as he does. "That's, ah, r-rather hard to wrap our heads around."

An expected reaction.

"Hey, Alphys." Undyne's leaning close to the reptilian monster sharing a blanket with her, her one-eyed gaze as intense as ever, and not straying a fraction from your face. "Is that even _possible_??"

An expected reaction.

"U-U-U-Uh, w-w-well..." Alphys fumbles greatly with her glasses as she mutters, looking more flustered than anything else. "I-In theory? M-M- _Maybe_??"

An expected reaction. You're starting to grow weary of predictability.

"Th-Though, i-if I'm being 100% honest-" A shaky smile curves the scientist's mouth. "-it sounds more like, heh, s-something straight out of an anime-"

"How else do you explain how I knew Undyne was your crush?"

This shuts her up instantly. It also almost just as instantly turns her entire face beet red. She gives you a flustered look that silently screams, 'Frisk oh my god I thought we agreed to NEVER bring that up again!'

You ignore her silent screams, instead turning to address the person sitting beside her. "How about all that talk about how you 'remembered' me as a friend?"

For once in her life, Undyne's face blanches with blank speechlessness. "Th...That...uh..."

Your gaze sharply turns onto Mettaton now. "How about your switch? How I barely answered the phone before I told you to turn around?"

The robot opens his mouth to say something, looking offended. Not a word comes out. He now looks off-put, somewhat awestruck.

"Every puzzle." You're clutching the mug so tightly, you want to fear that you'll break it. That's doubtful, though. "Every trial." Your nails scratch along its smooth circumference. They barely make a sound. "Every. Single. One." You feel your teeth clench tightly inside your mouth. "I've cycled through them so many times I can solve them frontwards. Backwards. Blindfolded. Inverted. Upside down. Inside out. _In my sleep_. I can recreate the entire musical right here and now, word-for-word, pitch-to-pitch, step-by- _stinkin'_ -"

A skeletal hand on your shoulder stops your tirade. Warns you in its firm grip that you need to regain yours.

The muscles in your hands slacken. The ones in your jaw do as well. Though you expected their disbelief, it seems you didn't take into account how you would react to it. Thus far, you've reacted poorly. You almost let the anger that spawned from not being believed in get the best of you. You almost raised your voice at everyone.

"...Every single time..." You feel your lip quiver the tiniest bit as you regain your composure. "Without fail..." Your gaze calmly falls on the one you call 'Mom'. "You knew I preferred cinnamon over butterscotch."

You look back down into your hot chocolate before you can see her reaction, feeling small and humble. "So, please, don't try to tell me you can't believe in the possibility."

The hand on your shoulder remains, though it's not gripping you in cautionary warning anymore. You continue staring into the lukewarm, chocolatey depths of your mug, listening patiently as the shifting of fabrics tells you that the others are looking at each other, silently weighing together the facts they possessed thus far. Patiently, you wait for them to reach a decision; to see if they believe you or not.

...

...

...

"... _How_...?"

They believe you.

The word was breathed so softly, no one would make a fuss if you acted like you didn't hear it at all. You act like you didn't hear it at all. You're not ready to fully answer 'how' yet. Still, just to be safe, "This ability; I never had it on the surface. It was...'awakened' when I first fell into the Underground. Though I possessed it...I never had the feeblest grasp of control on it. It controlled me...more than I it."

You can only hope these vague tidbits of the truth will placate them enough to not raise a fuss, should they have seen through your guise of being ignorant to the scarcely audible question. The hand on your shoulder remains.

"The power to reset time...wasn't the only thing I gained upon falling to the Underground."

You hear backs sitting up straighter. The hand on your shoulder twitches at your remark.

"I remember...a voice." This is your first time recalling this in what you feel to be an eternity. Like confessing about the resets was the key to unlocking this memory from your subconscious. "I wouldn't really call it a voice, though. More like the last dying echo of one lingering in an otherwise silent hall. It was always there, in the back of my mind. It was almost always whispering. Whispering dark, horrible things..."

The memories are flooding back. You remember the whispers that always came out the clearest in your mind: "'She's keeping you prisoner here to ebb her loneliness.', 'His only goal is to capture you; he's only acting hospitable to get you to lower your guard, to make capturing you easier.', 'You heard her; you're her enemy and she wants you dead.', 'She's only inserting herself into your story to make herself feel important.', 'He was built to kill you, only you.', 'He won't give you a choice; he'll kill you over and over again until you fight back.', 'He-'"

There's a sudden lump in your throat. You forcefully swallow it back. "...'He doesn't trust you. He never will.'"

The hand on your shoulder remains, though now, its fingers subtly dig into tense muscles. A gesture of comfort, of understanding, of penitence.

"...No matter what, the voice was always there," you continue. "Always whispering. Always telling me things. I was never sure how much truth was in the things it told me, until...the end of my 'first' journey."

Even though you've faced it down numerous times, you've never gotten used to seeing the nightmarish monstrosity a certain flower became after absorbing the six human souls. Even now, you feel your stomach contents uncomfortably churning as the image pops into your head. You probably shouldn't've eaten so much.

"The voice came in clearer than ever before. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was truths that it was whispering to me. That became completely obvious as it said its final words for the first timeline: 'No matter how much you call. No matter how much you beg. No matter how much you cry for help.'..."

You feel like there's an invisible hand on your windpipe, constricting it. "...'No one's going to come. No one's ever going to help you. You're alone. You'll always be alone. No. One. Cares. About you.’”

You pause, but only because you feel that if you don't, your voice'll crack again. This allows you to hear the heartbroken whispers of your name spreading throughout the group like a water droplet creating ripples on a pond's smooth surface. Skeletal fingers move from your left shoulder, skate across your upper back, then clasp tenderly onto your right.

"And, then...I found myself right back at the beginning."

You've taken a long enough break. Time to resume the story. "Of course I was confused. I thought it was over; Why did I end back up on that flower patch? For some reason, I didn't question it very much. I just repeated my journey, making subtle changes from my first one to see if I would get a different outcome at the end. I did. Yet I always woke up surrounded by golden flowers afterwards. I subconsciously realized what was going on, yet I still didn't question it. ... _Something_ was making sure I was otherwise kept preoccupied."

You keep staring into your mug. You lost interest in finishing off its contents quite some time ago. "Every time I ended my journey, I would always 'reset' back to the beginning. With every reset, the voice got louder, more understandable. It even started developing its own personality, made comments more frequently. 'Where are the knives.', 'Puzzles are horrendously boring.', 'What pointless wishes.', 'No one cares about "status updates".', 'Monsters are comically fragile.', 'What an satisfying sensation dust on bare skin is.'”

Nervous shifting. The arm around your shoulders remains.

"Frisk..." Undyne's finally regained her voice, it seems. It's full of intense, encroaching suspicion. "What are you _saying_...?"

All eyes are on you. You feel the way they're silently, desperately begging you to tell them that you're not going to say what they think you're going to say. You have no choice but to confirm their suspicions, even though you desperately wish you didn't have to.

Here it is. The second-to-last, most difficult for you to admit, big reveal of tonight. And, quite possibly, the biggest reveal of your entire life.

Skeletal fingers gently squeeze your right shoulder. A reminder of their owner's promised support. You inhale deeply through your nose, the scents of cocoa, cinnamon, and burning redwood no longer registering in your nostrils. "I've looped through my journey through the Underground more times than I can count. No two timelines were perfect matches in the choices I made, and the 'endings' I've received. The first few go-rounds, I fled from every battle I could, yet fought back out of defense in ones I couldn't escape. One thing remained a constant through an innumerable amount of the timelines I've 'reset'. In different ways, countless times..."

You can't even glance up from your lap. "I've _killed_ every one of you."

A log in the fire place, weakened by the flames licking away at it, breaks down the middle, shifting the embers and making sparks rise through the smoke before petering out into ash.

You're not going to give them as much time to digest this reveal as you did with the previous two. You know you'll not be able to get another word in if you don't. So, you keep going, "The voice grew stronger with each reset. It also grew stronger after every monster I turned to dust. It began dictating my actions, swaying my consciousness. Soon, it was the only voice I heard anymore. I fell deaf to all others, including my own thoughts. The voice became my thoughts, my actions, my sense of self, my very essence. Through countless reset timelines, I became mindlessly, unknowingly subject to its command. Through countless reset timelines, I had become what it had slowly, patiently shaped me to become: a merciless murderer.

"I became as blind to the murders I committed as I was deaf to my victims’ dying screams. My body became nothing more than an empty, shambling husk covered in dust. My mind an oblivious host to a bodiless voice that smiled in glee every time the HP counter hit zero. Countless lives slain, then brought back to life to be slain all over again, but the voice was never satisfied. Not until...the timeline when it became the loudest, the most commanding it ever was. The timeline when 'mercy' was more an abstract concept than a viable option. The timeline when...I fought all...and none survived. The timeline...when..."

"the timeline when they fought and killed...me."

You're silently grateful the one who's arm is around your shoulders sensed your hesitation and stole your thunder, so to speak. It's been strenuous enough to admit everything else already, so this tiny moment of reprieve is walking into the airy embrace of a fully functioning AC unit on after a full day of play beneath a sweltering summer sun.

"... _You_?"

The tone is disbelieving, almost scoffing. You hear several heads turn to the person who made the scathing remark. "Darling, don't take this the wrong way but, with that build-up, I'm sure we were all expecting something a little more jaw-dropping. I-I mean, quite frankly, you don't really look the part of a battle-capable fighter. A-Am I right, everyone??"

It sounds like no one shares the narcissistic robot's opinion.

"appearances can be deceiving, buddy." The tone is dark, yet you feel a smile in the voice. "i'm sure you can understand that better than anyone else."

No one, not even Mettaton, makes a remark. You wonder if a pair of pitch-black eye sockets are boring into him, further reprimanding him for casting doubt on your honesty.

You feel the slightest twinge of irk. Your flow's been, once again, disrupted. You open your mouth to continue-

"Does that mean...that _wasn't_ a dream?"

-and instantly snap it shut, without feeling the faintest ounce of irk or annoyance at this new interruption.

Something other than somber guilt appears on your facial expression as you look up and stare at Asgore. Everyone else turns their gazes onto the former king, too, and you briefly see that they're all sharing the same expression that's on your face: shocked wonder. Does he remember something from a previous timeline?

His eyes are wandering. One paw is rubbing at his head, near the temple. "I was...in the throne room. A peculiar little flower had appeared before me. It had a face. It could talk. It was...crying. Begging me to absorb the six human souls and run. Warning me about someone that had killed everyone, even the 'smiley trashbag' - its words, not mine - it never thought anyone could kill. Someone that was...neither human nor monster. I heard someone enter the throne room. The flower disappeared without another word. It looked so afraid. I turned around and...and..."

He grimaces, strain creasing his features. "I...I _know_ I am forgetting what happened after that. It feels like it is important, but...I just cannot recall what next occurred..."

Defeat washes over his features. His paw drops away from his temple. "The only thing I can remember after that is this...bright flash of light, accompanied by this deafening, ungodly screeching. And the next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bed, but even that feels like it was still part of the dream..."

"...It wasn't a dream, Asgore."

You feel all eyes back on you. You're not even looking into your mug anymore. You're just looking down, as your somber guilt overtakes your facial features once again. "It was...a memory. A memory from the timeline where I showed no mercy. The 'someone' the flower described was the same 'someone' you heard enter your throne room. That is, to say...it was me, poised and ready to cut you down. Yet, at the same time...it wasn't.

"The gap in your memory; it was me, 'waking up'. It was me, finally starting to think my own thoughts again. It was me, regaining my ability to hear other voices. It was me, realizing what I had become. It was me, fighting against the hold over my mind, body, and soul. It was me, trying to permanently stop myself...from hurting anyone else...

"It was me...killing myself."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: here's where the Graphic Depictions of Violence tag plays in

So. Some monsters _can_ bleed. How very interesting.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

.   .   .   .   .   .

.  .  .  B   l   e   e   d  .  .  .  ?

_"...n't say i didn't warn you."_

.  .  .  W   a   r   n  .  .  .  m   e  .  .  . ?

_“...'m going to grillby's."_

Sure you are.

.  .  .  B   l   o   o   d  .  .  .

"papyrus,"

Ashes to ashes.

.  .  .  H   e   '   s  .  .  .  b   l   e   e   d   i   n   g  .  .  .

_"do you want anything?"_

Dust. To.

.  .  .  H   e   '   s  .  .  .

Dust.

.  .  .

Ah. The sound of monsters disintegrating into dust will never be boring.

.  .  .

Finally. Another increase in LOVE.

.  .  .

It won't be long now.

. . . D  e  a  d . . .

Hmm. Save. Don't save.

. . .  H  e  '  s . . . d  e  a  d . . .

Saving replenishes HP.

. . . T  h  e  y  '  r  e . . . a  l  l  . . . d  e  a  d . . .

Saving takes away the tempting opportunity to have that intoxicatingly fun fight again.

. . . I . . . k  i  l  l  e  d . . . h  i  m . . .

Decisions. Decisions.

. . . I . . . k  i  l  l  e  d . . . a  l  l . . . o  f . . . t  h  e  m . . .

No. There is no decision to fret over. There is no time to give into such appealing temptations.

. . . . . .

There is time only for the absolute.

. . . W h a t   h a v e   I   d o n e ?

_Creeping vines. Stained glass windows. A throne surrounded by golden flowers. The back of a tall, horned monster._

This will be laughably easy.

W h a t   h a v e   I   d o n e ?

_"Curious." A deep, rumbling voice from the tall, horned monster. "I've never seen a plant... Cry before."_

Hmph. Always the cowardly crybaby, it seems.

W h a t   h a v e   I   d o n e ? ?

_A turn around. The front of a tall, horned monster. "...huh? You must be the one that flower just warned me about."_

That'll be dealt with soon enough.

W h a t   h a v e   I    _d o n e_ ? ? ?

_"Howdy!" A friendly hello full of subdued fear. "... Erm... What kind of monster are you...? Sorry, I cannot tell."_

For now...

_A tightened grip around a knife's worn handle. Its deadly blade gleamed yellow in the light._

_"Greetings...Your Majesty."_

. . . W h a t   a m   I   d o i n g ?

_"Now, now." A deep, rumbling voice, horror masquerading as calmness. "There's no need to fight."_

N o .

_"...You're right." A bright, youthful voice, blood lust masquerading as innocence. "There is no need to fight."_

I   d o n ' t   w a n t   t h i s .

_Relief washing over a golden bearded face. A grip tightened once more._

S t o p .

_"Compared to the one 'he' put up-" A blood-stained blade raised into the air, poising to strike._

S t o p . . !

_A seemingly innocent smile taking up most of a youth's face. "-this won't be much of a fight at all."_

STOOOOOOOOOOP!!!

_The blade came swinging down. Its sharp edge ripped into flesh. A breathless gasp was heard from a deep, rumbling voice. A seemingly innocent smile remained plastered on the youth's face._

_Even though the entirety of the blade's length was now lodged completely into the youth's right thigh._

_An HP counter fell from ninety-nine to ninety-one._

_"Hmm..." The bright, youthful voice sounded not at all off-put by the knife's disobedience. "How curious."_

_"O-Oh my goodness..." Though fear kept him locked in place, the king's kindly nature made him worry about the youth's well-being. "A-Are you alri-"_

_"_ S  t  a  y . . . a  w  a  y . . . _"_

_Though it came from the same mouth as the bright, youthful voice, this one couldn't be any more different than the first. It was small and restrained, like it was speaking through six feet of dirt. Begging, like a warning no one would heed of a great and terrible danger. Full of fright, like that of a young child that had lost their mother in a large, unforgiving crowd._

_Full of grief, like that of the most despicable criminal to ever crawl the earth groveling for absolution before facing oblivion._

_A seemingly innocent smile widened. The small hand not clinging to the knife's worn handle decisively wrapped its fingers around the other. "You must have misunderstood."_

_Two hands worked together to remove the knife from its fleshy sheath. Pure determination alone kept blood from spurting out of the deep, deep wound left behind. "SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTRO-"_

_One hand forced the other to create a second fleshy sheath in the youth's left thigh._

_HP: 84/99_

_"_ I  '  m . . . d  a  n  g  e  r  o  u  s . . . _" The voice sounded more strained, more pleading. "_ S  t  a  y . . . a  w  a  y . . . f  r  o  m   m  e . . . _"_

_A smile widened. "Really." A blade once again unsheathed. Blood coated it, yet not a single drop oozed from the wound it left behind. "Just what is it that you're hoping to accomplish with this little stunt?"_

_A golden flower emerged from the ground between youth and king. It had a face, on which was an expression of ghastly horror and awe. "Wh...What are you d-doing..?"_

_A smiling face turned onto the flower. "You gave up your privilege to have a choice long ago." The blade was raised with both hands. "You think trying to stop now will make a difference? After everything YOU'VE do-"_

_The sound of breaking bone as the knife was swiftly jerked out of the second hand holding it, the wrist snapping like a twig. The blade plunged deeply into the left bicep. The sound of tearing flesh as the knife turned like a wind-up toy's starting mechanism. The left arm fell, lifeless, to the youth's side._

_HP: 72/99_

_Flower and king flinched. Something began happening to the youth's face. It appeared as though it was...melting. Like old paint peeling off the side of a house because of too much sun exposure. That the face the youth wore upon entering the room was just a perfectly contoured mask._

_"_ I . . . k  i  l  l  e  d . . . t  h  e  m . . . _" Skin was not melting away to show bone, but rather, a second face. One warped by guilt and despair, akin to the guilt and despair in the strained, shambling voice of the lost child. "_ E  v  e  r  y  o  n  e  '  s . . . d  e  a  d . . . b  e  c  a  u  s  e . . . o  f   m  e . . . _"_

_" **That's right. You killed them.** " The smile on the 'mask', already contorted by the melting, twisted into one of sadistic glee. " **You ended countless lives. You paved every step of your path with their dust. AND YOU DID IT ALL WITH A SMILE** -"_

_The knife, swiftly removed from its arm sheath, created a fourth in the youth's abdomen. Jabbed upwards and inwards through the belly button._

_HP: 49/99_

_"_ T  o  r  i  e . . . _" A small, ovular area on the youth's shirt darkened. "_ A  s  g  o . . . _"_

_" **Is this remorse? NOW of all times?** " A laugh, but it was so dark and warped it sounded like nothing belonging to this world. " **As if something like YOU has the right to feel so HUMAN** -"_

_A knife removed, a knife returned. This time, straight into the stomach._

_HP: 20/99_

_"_ U  n  d . . . _" Several crimson droplets plunked like rain onto leafy vines. "_ A  l  p  h . . . _"_

_" **YOU THINK THIS ACT OF REPENTANCE WILL GRANT YOU ATONEMENT FOR YOUR SINS?** " The smile was starting to peel away from the youth's appearance. " **YOU KILLED THEM. NUMEROUS TIMES, YOU'VE MURDERED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. OVER AND OVER AGAIN, THROUGH COUNTLESS REPEATED TIMELINES, YOU REPEATEDLY SLAUGHTERED THEM ALL. DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE A SOUL AS WRETCHED AS YOURS DESERVES SALVATION??** "_

_The hand holding the knife shuddered as it removed it from its fifth fleshy sheath. Dark liquid ran down its handle as it rose silently through the air, then created the sixth sheath in the right lung._

_HP: 01/99_

_"_ P  -  P  a . . . _" Like overflowing wine, fluid dribbled out a mouth, down a chin, and stained golden petals scarlet. "_ S  -  S  a . . . _"_

_"... **Stop it.** "_

_The knife was removed again._

_" **Stop. It.** "_

_Not even the light pouring in from stained glass altered its completely crimson hue._

_" **Stop it right now.** "_

_The entirely undamaged arm holding the knife uncontrollably shuddered._

_" **Stop it THIS INSTANT.** "_

_The knife rose through the air, its tip aimed straight for a chest._

_" **I. SAID. STOP IT.** "_

_The mask had completely deteriorated away. The youth's true face was revealed. Blood trickled out from the grimacing mouth. Tears cascaded down from the dimming eyes. No matter where one would look, every inch of the child's face screamed of pain. Of suffering. Of horror. Of never-ending despair, regret, and heartache._

_"I ' m   s o   s o r r y ."_

_" **STOP IT!!!** "_

_Bone broke. Tissue tore. A human child's heart stopped beating._

_HP: 00/99_

 

\--

_From an art critic's standpoint, the scene in the throne room of the king of monsters would be, in a sense, considered tragically beautiful._

_Liquid rubies garnished the emerald and golden flora crushed beneath the child's body, creating a singular sort of color palette. The child's one uninjured limb, lying lifeless near the head of disheveled brown hair, while the rest of the body lay collapsed and broken, gave undoubted proof of one's own inescapable mortality. The way the blood-stained palm lay opened, the fingers still bent as though still grasping the instrument of the child's demise; reminiscence of the determination spent to commit these acts. The life-taking blade, lodged so deeply through the heart it protruded through to the other side, yet could not tear its tip through the fabric of the back of the shirt; a cruel ode to what it takes to be thorough. The terror-struck expressions on both king and plant, witnesses to the self-served sacrifice; a testament to those left behind when a life's been ended. Tragically beautiful._

_But this was no prized center piece for an art exhibit. This was reality. Cold, unforgiving reality. The monster and the flower just witnessed the gruesome, violent suicide of a young human child, whose last words were full of begging for the forgiveness they already knew they would never receive, or ever deserve. There was nothing tragically beautiful here._

_Especially when the second child was taken into consideration._

_This one had suddenly appeared when the first fell lifeless to the ground. This one stood silently over the dead, broken body in the exact place the first had been standing before. This one's head was facing down, pointed straight at the freshly made corpse of the first one. This one, while showing discreet differences, shared eerie similarities with the first one, appearance-wise. This one, while exuding a physical presence, did not appear to physically be there at all. This one's body was semi-transparent; not a shadow was cast despite the light coming through the stained glass windows falling directly on the child's body._

_The king and the plant had their terrorized gazes trained upon this second child, who's head remained pointed toward the lifeless body soiling the garden with blood. The king and the plant recognized the second child; they even knew the child's name. But unspeakable dread kept their voices from even entering their mouths, so nothing but the distant song of a bird filled the silence following the first child's self-wrought demise._

_That is, until the second child spoke in a voice darker than the deepest, darkest pits of the underground._

_" **Load.** " The word was spoken like a command, one issued by an vengeful god no one, especially not whatever this command was issued to, could deny._

_But it refused._

_" **LOAD.** "_

_But it refused._

_" **L**_  
_**O**_  
_**A**_  
_**D.** "_

_But it refused._

_The king was stiller than stone, and just as unresponsive. Only the flower had the vaguest idea what was happening, what the second child was trying to do, what was refusing the command. "Ch..." A name formed on the flower's lips, a name long since unspoken inside those golden halls by either monster or plant, not since a terrible tragedy a long time ago. "Ch...a-"_

_The entire world seemed to lurch. First to the left. Then to the right. Then to every possible direction that existed in the physical plane._

_The two children were at the epicenter of these earth-shattering quakes. While the rest of the world lurched and spiraled into chaos, the two children did not move with the rest of the world. They remained still, like the one focal point in an otherwise blurry photograph._

_Cracks began forming around the two children. Cracks that defied all known laws of physicality, causality, probability. Reality was becoming undone. It was splitting apart at the seams._

_A malignant aura was exuded from the second child's trembling frame. Giant, gauged out holes leaking inky blackness were where the child's eyes would be. A horrid, ear-drum bursting, unholy shriek of the countless accumulated screams of defeat and rage that have ever existed burst forth from a torn, twisted smile leaking the same inky blackness as the child's giant, gauged out holes._

_The timeline._

_Was reset._

 

\----

You still remember the exact spots where you plunged the dagger into yourself. You can still feel the blade tearing through your flesh, still hear the sick squelching sounds it made with every stab. You still remember the taste of your blood on your tongue, the way it felt as it filled your lungs, oozed from the wounds you made.

Even though it's the first time you're truly recalling this, you remember killing yourself in perfect clarity.

A shudder down your spine makes your body quiver. You feel your mouth form a grimace as you forcefully swallow the lump in your throat. "After that...the voice became easier to ignore. I could see, hear, feel things again. The resets didn't stop, though. But, with every new timeline, the voice became softer, not as all-powerful and commanding. I kept seeing and hearing and feeling more. And then, with 'this' timeline..."

What has potential to be a smile plays on your mouth. The faintest hints of wonder enter your voice as you confess, "The voice was...virtually non-existent. Though I've taken this journey before, I felt that, this time, I was wholly experiencing it for the very first time. I finally felt free to make my own decisions, choose my own path, spare and befriend anyone - everyone - I met. And look where we are now."

The would-be smile gains more potential. It might have a chance to stay on your face. "The barrier is gone. The monsters are free. When you all showed up at the barrier before, I was so surprised. Never before had any of you come to make sure no one had to fight. I was so... _so_ happy to see you all there. I just...just wanted to run up and hug every single one of you, tell you how happy I was. But I was so happy that I couldn't move or speak at all. Before coming to the Underground, I never once believed I could be so happy. For the first time in my life...I had friends who believed in me, who loved and cared about me. For the first time in my life, I truly felt like I had...a family. It's one of the happiest moments in my life, and you've all given me so many more ever since."

You can practically feel the smiles lighting everyone's faces up. Surely, now knowing how much joy they've given you, they're feeling-

"And it's precisely because of the happiness you gave me that I ran away from it."

-confused, misled, and overall blindsided.

The smile stays on your face, its curve bitter and resentful. "Of course you all would care about me; you don't remember what I did to you in previous timelines. I do. I remember it all. I can still feel your dust on my hands whenever I dream. I can still recall, word-for-word, all the horrible, justified things you've said to me. Though they all happened across different timelines, timelines that have since been reset, erased... There's no way all the sins I've committed can just as easily be erased."

You know your voice is getting louder, cracking. You don't care anymore. "You'd never be this kind to me if you remembered how truly horrible and unforgivable a creature I was! It was disgustingly selfish of me to think I'd earn forgiveness just because I set everyone free! I ran away because I couldn't live with myself anymore! _I don't deserve any of the kindness and love you've given me-!_ "

_Clink_

The sound was softer than a lullaby, but it silenced you all the same. Your eyes had been closed, it seems; they snapped wide open at the sound of bone clinking against ceramic. You see skeletal fingers clasped around the rim of your mug, holding it steady. You see traces of hot chocolate trailing down its side. You see stains of hot chocolate on your pants, on your hands. When did they start shaking so intensely? When did they start shaking to begin with?

"easy there." The skeletal fingers lift your mug away from your lap, out from between your uncontrollably trembling hands, then place it on the coffee table in front of the couch on which you sit. "won't do anyone good to cry over spilled milk. or, in this case, spilled hot chocolate."

Your breath shakes as you exhale. You don't even try to restrain your tremulous extremities. Your bitter smile has devolved into another grimace. You hunch over on yourself, making yourself look and feel smaller. You bring your legs up to your chest. You wrap your arms tightly around them. You hide your face against your limbs, your eyes pressing into your knees. You feel certain parts of the fabric of your pants moisten. When did you start crying?

"...you want me to tag in for a while?"

You're beyond grateful the one beside you can read you so easily right now. Because right now, what was offered is exactly what you're wanting. Your composure has been compromised. Your own specific strain of determination, vast though it may be, has reached its limit. You're spent, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Someone else can let the final big reveal out into the open. Someone who, in all honesty, is more qualified to disclose the truth than you are, considering you were unconscious the first time the truth was revealed.

You answer the inquiry with a sniffle, then slide your face further down your legs, further hiding yourself. You're done being the story teller for tonight.

"you got it, kiddo." The hand on your shoulder reaches up to rub the top of your head, a simple gesture of understanding and comfort, before you no longer feel the cool touch of bone anywhere on you.

"alright. eyes on me everyone. train of thought's still the same, just being conducted by yours truly. now, everything said so far sounds like it's all perfectly tied up like a bow on a present, right? wrong. there're still a few sneaky, unnumbered dots left to be connected, and i hold the perfectly sharpened pencil to draw the lines between them. the voice frisk heard. why they were compelled to kill. the power they had to reset time. why they couldn't control this power at all. these are the unnumbered dots. as is the reason they had the nightmares that note mentioned. you all still with me? 'cause here's the clincher: the line that connects these dots is a 'what' that was once a 'who'. who is what, and what is who, you ask?"

You no longer sense even the faintest hints of a smile in Sans' voice as he reveals the perpetrator behind the suffering caused and endured throughout the resets: "i'm sure at least two of you are familiar with the name chara."

\----

The redwood logs in the fireplace were reduced to smoldering embers. The fire still kept burning bright; it was magical, after all. Still, it wouldn't hurt to add another log to feed the flames. But no one did. No one got up to add another log to the fire. No one felt the compelling need to keep the fire going. No one even felt the compelling need to do much of anything at all.

Except to remain the pale-faced, horror-expressing statues they had become, even long after Sans finished telling them everything that happened before they found him and Frisk on Mt. Ebott.

"Demonic...possession...?"

Everyone felt like hours had passed since Sans finished talking before anyone spoke again. Mettaton was the one that broke the silence, made the reality of Sans' words, which already felt like a blow to the gut, fully sink in.

The robot always talked and acted like he was always on camera. Now, he did no such thing. With both hands covering his mouth, his one visible eye opened wide, he looked completely aghast and horror-struck; an unflattering combination, in his opinion. "A-All this time..." His metallic voice didn't have its usual smoothness, either. It was small, meek, reflecting of the unflattering expression on his somehow paler-than-usual face. "Our darling Frisk was...was..."

"That...little... _brat_..!"

Undyne's the next to speak, and the rage boiling up inside her, reflecting on her face and in her voice, was so intense it could start forest fires. "Toying with our lives like that...keeping Frisk a prisoner in their own body...slowly killing their soul from the inside...! If that _THING_ was still alive I'd- _I'D_ -"

She was too infuriated to make a proper threat. She swung one fist down so hard, she punched a two-feet wide crevice into the floor. "D- _Dammit_..." she cursed under her breath, not only looking enraged in general, but also enraged at herself.

"Oh my god..." was all Alphys seemed capable of saying at the moment through the claws of both hands covering her mouth. "Oh my _god_..."

Though always wearing a smile was a habit for Sans, current circumstances did not allow for him to keep that habit. Especially not now; not when everyone knew the honest-to-god truth about how much their lives were affected by Frisk's fall to the Underground.

His mouth formed a solemn, almost completely closed line. His facial features were creased with grave seriousness; a jarring difference compared to the laughter lines, created from his comic personality, that were usually creasing his skull. There was no room for comedy here; no jokes or wise-cracks to be made. Only seriousness found a home on the skeleton's face now, as he kept his sullen gaze on the two who were obviously most affected by the truths he revealed.

Though their fur made it difficult to tell the difference, Toriel and Asgore looked whiter than freshly fallen snow. Asgore, with his arms limp at his sides, his jaw slack, and his eyes wider than dinner plates, looked as though he was just dealt a killing blow in one strike. Toriel, with both paws covering her mouth, her eyes wider than dinner plates, and tears trickling down her cheeks, looked as though she had just saw each of her children die right in front of her eyes all over again.

"How...?" she breathlessly gaped, while her ex-husband remained stricken with speechlessness. "How could that child have...become so _cruel_..?"

Sans' expression darkened. "...i think it'll help if you try to think of the 'chara' you knew and the 'chara' i encountered as two separate individuals."

Both ex-royals focused their wide-with-terror eyes onto the seated skeleton. In fact, so did everyone else sitting on the floor. "i'm not one to judge what kind of person they used to be," Sans explained, a distant look in his sockets. "never met 'em before. but judging by you two's reactions, i can only assume the kid wasn't _that_ bad when you knew them. am i right?"

With the way Toriel and Asgore's gazes shifted and wandered, they gave off the vibe that they didn't know how to properly answer that question.

Sans' sockets drooped closed, giving him a somber, weathered expression. "death warped the human child you once loved and cared for like one of your own, asgore and toriel. warped them into something without conscience or heart. something beyond salvation. i don't know if it'll help, but if you can, remember the human child you raised alongside your son as the 'chara' you knew. as for what i described...remember it as the demonic entity that played the timespace continuum like a fiddle, stuck everyone in an endless cycle of being killed, revived, then being killed over and over again for its own sick amusement..."

His sockets opened again, though his weary gaze was now focused directly to his right. "...and _used_ frisk to do it all."

All gazes focused directly to Sans' right, all souls feeling heartache for the person that had, quite possibly, suffered the most from the repeated timelines. " _Frisk_..."

The child had not moved a muscle since they handed the reigns over to Sans. A blanket remained draped over their shoulders, making it look like they were wearing a cape. Their legs were bent, their bare feet crossed and tucked beneath the seat of their pants. Their arms tightly hugged their legs to their chest, hands clasping the opposite elbows like a death-lock. Their face remained hidden behind their legs, beneath their mop of short brown hair. They were so still and quiet, the only thing keeping everyone from thinking that they fell asleep in that position was the occasional sniffle indicating the silent tears they were shedding.

Sans never considered himself to be that great at dealing with heavy, mushy stuff. He thought it was a mere stroke of luck that he was able to comfort Frisk when he found them in the blizzard, was able to talk them out of doing the irreversible. Even the tender touches he gave the child as they recounted their life story felt like awkward attempts at comfort to him. As he watched them now, heard the quiet sobs they tried to hide, he felt the urge to give them another of those tender touches. Squeeze on the shoulder? Pat on the head? Perhaps even a small, one-armed hug? He couldn't decide, and did nothing in the end, other than lightly clench his hands inside his jacket pockets, and briefly wonder what more could be done now.

"U-Um, Frisk, c-could you show me your soul?"

Well.

That was unexpected.

Many a gaze turned to the ex-royal scientist, some curious, some aghast. Not a one came from the person she was addressing.

"I-I j-just want to make sure it's alright!" Alphys quickly clarified, one of her hands nervously fiddling with her glasses. "I-I mean, from what you described, Sans, th-that...that 'thing' had been within Frisk for a _long_ time; what if it left some nasty side-effects on their soul? I have this device-" She reached for her bag, opened it, then began digging through it. "-that measures the energy outputs of a soul, scans for abnormalities, and gives me a diagnosis of how healthy it is. I-I'm not saying I doubt your, uh, 'handiwork' Sans, b-but-"

"no, no. i understand," Sans reassured the flustered scientist, the beginnings of a smile appearing on his face. "i was actually thinking of suggesting that myself. dealing with something like 'that' was new territory for me. it'd be nice to have a sure-fire way to make sure i didn't overlook anything. of course-" He glanced to his right. "-you'll need frisk's consent before that'll happen."

"Of course, of course." She muttered this as she was still rummaging through her bag, so her tone was absentminded. However, she stopped the search to focus all her attention on the human child by Sans' side, and asked in a cordial voice, "What do you say, Frisk? Is it alright if I perform a 'check-up' on your soul?"

Everyone was silent as they waited for Frisk's reply. The 'tick-tock-tick-tock' of a distant clock was heard. Then, without a word, the child unfolded their legs, hugged their arms around their chest, and inhaled in deeply through their mouth. A soft, glowing light spilled out from behind their arms, and on the exhale, they opened their arms, and bore their soul, colored warmly with the red glow of, not LOVE, but love.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," was all Alphys said before resuming her search.

Everyone present had seen the child's soul before, but with the way that they all leaned in close and stared at it now, it was like this was the first time any of them had seen a soul at all. "It...does not _look_ much different," Toriel commented.

"Doesn't look any different at all," Mettaton added, sounding very sure of himself.

Undyne was staring so intensely, her gaze could burn a hole into solid concrete. "Did it really look any different than this in previous timelines?" she pondered aloud.

Sans, though his sockets remained vigilantly trained on Frisk's soul, wore a lazy grin as he shrugged one shoulder. "hard to say. throughout the timelines, the 'thing' had gotten pretty decent at masking its presence. i never knew there were two souls inside frisk's body until after i removed that nasty little-"

"Aha! There you are!" Alphys announced, interrupting Sans as she pulled a small, rectangular device out of the depths of her bag. With a flick of a switch, the machine whirred to life. "Okay, Frisk-" She was in full scientist mode as she spoke to the child, and as such spoke in her bedside-manner voice so as to make sure her 'patient' felt at ease. "-ready?"

Frisk didn't respond, save for the slight incline of their head.

"Okay. Stay relaxed. You won't feel a thing..."

A thin beam of light shot out from the top of Alphys' device. It fell onto the center of Frisk's soul, then expanded. First horizontally, then vertically, forming a laser-light grid that encompassed the entirety of the child's soul. The machine whirred and clacked as the grid lit up and flashed, no doubt performing the procedures Alphys previously described. "It'll take a while for everything to be processed," the reptilian monster explained. "A few minutes, tops. I'll need you to remain as still as possible until it's over, okay, Frisk?"

The child didn't say a word, nor moved a muscle. But everyone knew they knew what was expected of them.

"While we are waiting," Asgore spoke up, in what felt like the first time in a lifetime, "there is still something I am confused about. Sans-" The gazes of skeleton and goat monster met, both showing varying degrees of curiosity. "-the way you spoke about everything; it implies that you have as much knowledge about these 'timelines' and 'resets' as Frisk does. How were you able to remember everything, while the rest of us remember next to nothing?"

"Yeah! And while we're at it-" Undyne also focused her gaze on the skeleton, the look in her eye no less intense than when she had it on Frisk's soul. "-you never really explained _how_ you got that 'thing' outta them, either!"

"If you can tell us, please-" Pleading was in her voice and eyes as Toriel also focused her gaze on Sans. "-how did you manage to free Frisk from...'that'?"

Sans' usual smile curved his mouth. The white pupils in his sockets were as big and bright as ever. He was silent for the first few seconds after these inquiries were presented, but when he answered them, his voice had its usual laid-back drawl in its tone. "to the first question: my superb observation skills, plus a ridiculous amount of déjà vu, was what made me wise to all the reset madness."

Those staring at him frowned. That wasn't a real answer.

"as for the second question..." He paused, and with the way his smile lessened and his sockets darkened, it gave off the impression that he had done something he wasn't proud of. Such an expression lasted for only a second before he closed his left socket in a wink. "let's just say i can cross 'open-soul surgery' off the ol' bucket list."

Those staring at him blanched. That wasn't a real answer, either.

_Ping! Ping! Ping!_ Before another word could be put in, the sounds coming from Alphys' machine indicated that it had completed its scan. "There we go. All done," she murmured under her breath as the laser-light grid disappeared. A small, holographic screen popped up directly in front of Alphys' face, one that displayed a whole mess of numbers and charts and graphs that only a scientist of her caliber could make heads or tails out of.

"...Well?" Mettaton asked, impatiently scooting closer to try and look at the data over Alphys' shoulder. "What's the diagnosis, Doctor??"

Alphys was absentmindedly adjusting her glasses, her gaze intently focused on the data stream her device was providing. "Hmm... Well, back when I first met Frisk in this timeline," she began, her voice neither stammering nor fumbling, "the updated phone I gave them had a function to change their soul yellow, to deal with you, Mettaton."

The robot turned away, hiding abash with pride. "Doing so gave me readings on what Frisk's soul was like back then. Admittedly, back then, nothing really jumped out at me as unusual or...'demonic'. You're right, Sans; that 'thing' sure was good at hiding its presence. So if I use those readings as the control, and I compare them to the readings I'm getting now... The only difference I can see is that Frisk's soul is now .001% smaller than before, like a razor thin layer of rust got scrubbed off of it."

Hope lit up everyone's faces. "Does that mean..?"

After switching off the machine, Alphys gave everyone, mostly Frisk, a big smile. "Yes, Toriel. It means Frisk is gonna be okay."

A sigh of deep relief blew through Sans' mouth. Toriel and Asgore smiled at each other. Mettaton dramatically wiped his brow with the back of his hand, even though robots couldn't sweat. Undyne began whooping loudly, with one arm wrapped around Alphys in a strong hug. Alphys, her cheeks burning red through her yellow scales, chuckled. "H-Heh heh, a-and here I thought having a soul-sucking, timeline-controlling demon slowly leeching off of and manipulating Frisk's soul would leave permanent damage! Heh...heh...ha..."

She regretted it the moment she said it. She wished she hadn't said it at all, even though it was not the main reason the joyous, hopeful atmosphere died out as quickly as it appeared.

The one that had most cause to celebrate Alphys' diagnosis was in no celebratory mood at all. After returning their soul into their chest, Frisk had resumed their previous position of hiding their face against their legs, trying to make themself small enough to blink out of existence. They did not say a word, and the muffled sniffles they tried to stifle indicated that they were crying once again.

Alphys was wrong. Permanent damage had been inflicted on Frisk's soul. And it was the kind that would never show up as data readouts on a machine.

"Oh, Frisk..." Toriel breathed, tears welling in her eyes to see the child so distressed. "You do not think we are...upset with you, do you?"

"We're not upset, or angry, or anything else like that, Frisk," Asgore added, sympathy in his deep, rumbling voice. "How could we be, after hearing about all you've suffered through?"

"A-And, you suffered through it all alone," Alphys muttered, eyes staring at the floor in meek somberness. "U-Unable to turn to anyone for help, b-because you were made to believe that no one _would_ help, even if you asked for it..."

"Frisk, listen." Undyne scratched awkwardly at the base of her red ponytail, her eye wandering as she tried to think of what to say. "I, uh, I can understand why you'd fight back in the previous timelines. Hell, I stated outright the moment we met in _this_ one that I was going to kill you and take your soul; I can understand why you'd want to... Look, you shouldn't hold that against yourself _alright_?!"

"I think what Undyne's trying to say," Mettaton interjected, "is that we don't blame you for what happened before, darling. The person that struck us down so many times before; that wasn't you. It was that _thing_ that had the nerve to commandeer your soul and control you like a puppet!"

"it's not your fault, frisk." Finally, Sans plucked up enough motivation to give the child he sat beside another comforting touch. He placed his skeletal fingers on top of one of their hands, squeezing it gently. "no one here blames you for what you did under that _thing's_ influence. you can't-"

"It still doesn't change the fact that I allowed it to control me so easily."

Sans' hand drew back from Frisk's, his sockets wide and his smile faltering. "frisk-"

"I let that _thing_ latch onto my soul," the child snapped, their voice muffled by their legs. "You were the ones that were repeatedly betrayed and _slaughtered_ because of that mistake. I _let_ it use me to cut you down. And I didn't even try to fight back until the last possible moment. What kind of person allows that to happen?" A sniffle. "Definitely not someone with the best interests in mind."

It'd be a wonder if everyone staring at the sorrowful human could look even more heartbroken. "No, Frisk," Toriel begged, one shaking paw reaching toward the child. "Don't say that-"

"I am a bad person." Their arms more tightly hugged their legs, their voice smaller and more regret-filled than ever. "I don't deserve to be forgiven."

The determined finality in their voice completely silenced everyone, even though everyone wanted to do nothing more than convince the despondent child that they couldn't be more wrong with that kind of thinking. Everyone was at a loss for what they could say to change the child's mind, what they could do to make them feel better. They were all even at a loss for what they could do at all. No one moved an inch; not Frisk nor Sans, not Mettaton, not Undyne nor Alphys, not Toriel nor Asgore, not-

The rattling of bones broke every monster out of their statuesque state. Seemed as though not _everyone_ was at a loss of what next to do, as was previously believed. "p...papyrus?"

Papyrus had been unnaturally still and quiet as Frisk and Sans gave their confessions. He hadn't said a word since hearing about Frisk's life before the underground, neither had he moved a nonexistent muscle. Truthfully, this had been the longest he'd ever been still and quiet (at least while awake) in his life. It was rather worrying, to be honest.

It was just as worrying to see him standing so tall and firm, with his mouth forming a deep frown, and an unnaturally dark look in his sockets.

Sans felt a fine layer of perspiration coat his skull. He knew what his brother was like. Knew that, in every timeline, whenever he faced Frisk in battle, he would always spare them. Even if one of them had been beat within an inch of their lives, even if Frisk took the pacifist's way when in battle, even if Frisk showed murderous intent straight from the start; Papyrus would _always_ show them mercy in the end. So of course seeing such an expression on his brother's face now, when it was usually so cheery and friendly, made Sans worry.

Especially when the taller skeleton marched straight up to the couch the smaller sat on, and came to a deathly still halt directly in front of the human child curled up beside him.

Everyone fidgeted nervously, Sans especially. Not Frisk, though. They had heard Papyrus approach, not wincing once as he came to a standstill in front of them. All the child did was move their head up a fraction, to peek at the skeleton from behind their knees. A pair of puffy, blood-shot, tear-stained eyes took one look at the skeleton's darkened expression, then deftly closed before once again hiding behind their knees. They were ready for whatever Papyrus was going to do; resigned to accept whatever harsh, unforgiving actions he was preparing to-

He dropped down onto his knees. His dark expression gave way to tearful sympathy. He wrapped his arms around Frisk's folded-up body, brought them close, and rested the side of his skull against their head.

If this was a harsh, unforgiving action, then the snow outside was falling up from the ground.

"YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT TRUE, FRISK." Papyrus' voice was a soothing, gentle hum; a stark contrast from its usual loud, grandiose proclamation. "I KNOW YOU DON'T BELIEVE THAT'S TRUE. YOU'RE _NOT_ A BAD PERSON. A BAD PERSON WOULDN'T SO OPENLY SHOW SUCH REMORSE. AND OF _COURSE_ YOU DESERVE TO BE FORGIVEN. ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU'VE PROVEN IN THIS TIMELINE? THAT EVERYONE DESERVES TO BE SHOWN MERCY AND FORGIVENESS?"

He hugged the child closer to his rib cage. "YOU _ARE_ A GOOD PERSON, FRISK." A small smile played on his face, tears starting to form in the corners of his closed eye sockets. "AND I KNEW I WAS RIGHT...TO _NEVER_ STOP BELIEVING IN YOU."

Something about the way he made that last statement was peculiar in everyone's ears. No one could understand why it sounded so curious, at first. But then, as realization dawned on their faces, the child in the skeleton's embrace stated the idea taking shape in everyone else's minds:

"...You remember?"

"BITS AND PIECES OF WHAT I ONCE THOUGHT WERE ONLY DREAMS, BUT...YES." Papyrus opened his sockets, and in them was a distant, weathered gaze. "I REMEMBER."

Frisk's face slid further down their legs, all in attempt to further hide themself.

"...papyrus..." Sans' skull was somehow paler than normal as he stared, with wide sockets full of dismayed bewilderment, at his brother. "wh...why didn't you _tell_ me...?"

"PROBABLY FOR THE SAME REASON _YOU_ NEVER TOLD _ME_ , SANS." His tone suggested anger and betrayal, but the look he gave as he turned his skull to face the shorter skeleton was filled with mournful helplessness. "YOU THINK I WANTED TO TELL MY BROTHER ABOUT HOW I REMEMBER ALL THE TIMES I'VE _DIED_?"

Sans winced, the corners of his mouth turned downward into a frown that reflected the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "p-papyrus..."

The hybrid of a sniffle with a whimper turned the two skeletons' attentions back to Frisk, who was trembling in Papyrus' arms. "NO, NO, DON'T CRY, FRISK," he pleaded, his tone soothing as he cupped one of his hands around the back of the child's head. "THAT WASN'T YOUR FAULT, REMEMBER? THE ONE THAT CUT EVERYONE DOWN; THAT WASN'T YOU. IT WAS THAT ENTITY CONTROLLING YOU. FORCING YOU TO COMMIT ACTS YOU NEVER WANTED TO COMMIT. YOU CAN'T BLAME YOURSELF FOR SOMETHING THAT WAS BEYOND YOUR CONTROL."

Another sniffle/whimper combo. "B-But, I st-still let it in-"

"YOU CAN'T BLAME YOURSELF FOR THAT EITHER. REMEMBER WHAT SANS SAID? IT TOOK ADVANTAGE OF YOU WHEN YOU WERE AT YOUR MOST VULNERABLE. AND IT MASKED ITS PRESENCE SO WELL, YOU NEVER KNEW IT WAS THERE AT ALL. SOMETHING LIKE THAT IS _NEVER_ THE VICTIM'S FAULT. WHICH IS TO SAY, THAT WASN'T YOUR FAULT, EITHER."

"B-But-!"

"NO MORE 'BUT'S!" Frisk flinched at the harsh tone. Papyrus grimaced at it. He inhaled deeply to calm himself, then blew out a low sigh on the exhale. He also tightened his embrace around the child's body. "FRISK...I KNOW YOU WANT TO BELIEVE THAT YOU DON'T DESERVE IT, BUT NOTHING YOU SAY OR DO NOW WILL CHANGE THE FACT THAT YOU _DO_ DESERVE FORGIVENESS. ALL OF US HERE; WE'VE ALL FORGIVEN YOU. SO, IF NOT FOR YOUR OWN SAKE, THEN FOR OURS...CAN YOU TRY TO FORGIVE YOURSELF?"

Frisk's tremors slowly calmed to a stop.

A gentle smile appeared on Papyrus' face. "YOU DIDN'T BECOME COMPLETELY SUBJECT TO ITS WILL RIGHT FROM THE GET GO; YOU SAID THAT YOURSELF. IT WAS A GRADUAL PROCESS, ONE THAT DIDN'T RAISE ANYONE'S SUSPICIONS, NOT EVEN YOUR OWN. EVEN THOUGH IT WAS JUST A SHELL OF ITS FORMER SELF WHEN IT FIRST LATCHED ONTO YOU, IT STILL HAD POWERS - DANGEROUS, GOD-LIKE POWERS - THAT MADE IT NEAR IMPOSSIBLE FOR US TO KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON. BOTH WITH THE RESETS, AND WITH YOU."

His smile lessened a fraction. "I'M...ASHAMED OF MYSELF FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO DO MORE FOR YOU BACK THEN. BUT I STILL NEVER STOPPED BELIEVING IN YOU, EVEN AFTER I WAS...DEFEATED. BECAUSE I REMEMBERED THE KIND OF PERSON YOU WERE WHEN WE MET THE _FIRST_ TIME. THE FIRST TIME, YOU STRUCK ME AS A LOST, SCARED CHILD WHO JUST WANTED TO GO HOME. THAT'S ALWAYS WHAT I SAW YOU AS, EVEN WHEN THE ENTITY STARTED HOLDING MORE SWAY OVER YOUR SOUL. YOU WERE STILL THE LOST, SCARED CHILD I REMEMBERED...AND I WAS PROVED OF THAT IN THE TIMELINE WHEN YOU _DIDN'T DO A VIOLENCE._ "

Both Frisk and Sans knew exactly which timeline Papyrus was referring to. It was in the timeline immediately following the one where Sans was vanquished, when it seemed like Frisk was going down the exact same route of showing no mercy once again. But, when they faced down Papyrus, and Sans feared that he was going to have to watch his brother die again...Frisk had chucked their weapon straight into a passing ice block floating down the river nearby on its way to the Core. They had spared him.

"IT MAY BE TRUE THAT YOU DIDN'T STAND UP TO YOUR POSSESSOR UNTIL IT WAS ALMOST TOO LATE," Papyrus continued, voice still a gentle hum, "BUT YOU SHOULD TAKE PRIDE IN THE FACT THAT YOU WERE ABLE TO STAND UP TO IT AT ALL. THAT YOU WERE ABLE TO FIGHT BACK BEFORE IT COMPLETELY CONSUMED YOU. IT WAS AT ITS MOST POWERFUL AT THAT MOMENT, AND YET YOU WERE ABLE TO STOP IT BEFORE YOU WENT PAST THE POINT OF NO RETURN. AND YOU _KEPT_ STOPPING IT FROM HAVING ITS WAY, FROM LETTING IT COMPLETELY OVERWHELM AND MANIPULATE YOU. AND EVENTUALLY, YOU WERE THE ONE THAT OVERWHELMED IT. IT WAS ITS LOVE THAT ALMOST DESTROYED EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, BUT IT WAS YOUR _LOVE_ THAT SAVED EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE."

Hints of anger and disgust entered his voice as he professed, "MAKING YOU HAVE THOSE NIGHTMARES. MAKING YOU THINK EVERYTHING WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU WERE GONE... THAT WAS ITS PITIFUL, DESPERATE, LAST-PITCH EFFORT TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU WHEN YOU WERE MOST VULNERABLE AGAIN. IT WAS A FOUL, DIRTY TRICK TO MAKE YOU BELIEVE THOSE HORRIBLE, UNTRUE THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF. WELL, LET ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BANISH THOSE BELIEFS FROM YOUR MIND ONCE AND FOR ALL."

Tighter still he embraced the human child. Comforting still he made his words sound. "IT _WASN'T_ YOUR FAULT. YOU _ARE_ SAFE TO BE AROUND. YOU _DESERVE_ TO BE HAPPY. YOU _DESERVE_ TO LIVE. YOU _DESERVE_ THE KINDNESS AND LOVE WE'VE ALL GIVEN YOU. _NO ONE_ BLAMES YOU FOR THE EVENTS THAT WERE BEYOND YOUR CONTROL. _EVERYONE_ CARES ABOUT YOU. YOU'RE _NOT_ ALONE ANYMORE. WE'LL ALWAYS, _ALWAYS_ BE THERE FOR YOU."

All around the room were teary eyes and shaky smiles; faces of agreement with every word of assurance the skeleton said. Only one skeletal face did not smile, but that didn't mean he didn't agree with everything his brother said. He was just too mind-blown by everything his brother said that all he could get his face to do was gape at the taller skeleton. _pap..._ Slowly, a smile curved his mouth. _you really are the coolest brother ever..._

"THOUGH IT'S HARDLY NECESSARY, CONSIDERING YOU WEREN'T THE ONE AT FAULT, WE'VE _ALL_ FORGIVEN YOU, FRISK." Papyrus pulled away, tried to turn Frisk's head up so he could look them in the eye. "SO THE QUESTION REMAINS: _CAN YOU FORGIVE YOURSELF?_ "

This was it. The moment of truth. Everything left to say had been said. Nothing was left to confess. All that was left was to see if the human child - who had been just as much a tormented pawn as everyone else had been in the sick, twisted game the once-human demon called 'Chara' created out of their time spent in the underground - could come to terms with the acts they committed when their soul was under the demon's enslavement.

Papyrus had semi-succeeded in getting Frisk to un-hide their face from behind their legs. Their eyes, still blood-shot and puffy, peeked out from behind their kneecaps, stared unfocused at nothing, at first. Then, with less speed than a Thundersnail racer under pressure, they focused their gaze on the faces around them. First to Papyrus, then to Sans. Next to Mettaton, then to Alphys and Undyne. Then to Asgore, and finally to Toriel. Though their expressions subtly varied, one could not doubt the hopeful encouragement in each of their smiles. It was reminiscent of this timeline's darkest hour, when they were all held captive in a certain flower's thorny vines, when all hope seemed lost; the same hopeful encouragement was on everyone's faces, and though they all used different words, the message they conveyed was one in the same: _don't give up_.

Frisk's eyes refocused on nothing in particular. Their eyelids closed a centimeter. Silently, they re-hid their eyes behind their knees. No one winced, but continued to wait patiently for the child to give a proper response.

_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick-_

In one fluid motion, Frisk unfolded like an accordion, knelt on the edge of the couch, leaned their entire weight against Papyrus' rib cage, and wrapped their arms around his skeletal neck. Though the whole of their face was nestled and hidden against his red cape, there was a smile and unmistakable determination in their voice as they whispered, "I think I can learn to."

Everyone's faces lit up brighter than the Fourth of July and Christmas combined.

"OF COURSE YOU CAN LEARN TO!" Papyrus loudly proclaimed, his usual grandiose tone returning to his voice as he stood up, his arms remaining around Frisk so they wouldn't dangle from his neck. "ESPECIALLY SINCE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE THERE TO HELP YOU EVERY STEP OF THE WAY!"

"Whenever you're feeling down, use the Mettaton Way to brighten your day!" Mettaton announced, like he was doing a voice-over for a commercial. He struck a pose- "Smile at yourself in the mirror at least 20 times a day!" -then another- "Look yourself in the eye and tell yourself how wonderful you are!" -then another. "And if all else fails, simply remind yourself about how beautiful and loved you are!!"

"Imagine all your doubts and worries are the faces of your mortal enemies!" Undyne advised, holding her fists up in front of her as she got to her feet. "Then imagine those faces on a punching bag! Then BEAT THE STUFFING OUT OF IT!!"

"We have all done things we are not proud of," Asgore confessed as Undyne guffawed, hints of regret in his deep, rumbling voice. "But, that is just a part of life. How we learn and grow from past mistakes; that is what truly defines us as living beings."

"We c-can't keep living in the past," Alphys stammered, a flustered smile on her face that hid hints of somberness. "A-All we can hope is that our mistakes won't be repeated, a-and move on with our lives!"

"There is always hope for a better tomorrow," Toriel reassured, her smile never wavering as she stood and walked to where Papyrus held Frisk in his arms, to gently stroke their hair. "So long as you always remember how much you are truly loved and cared about."

"ahhh, dangit, you guys," Sans moaned as he leaned back, sinking deeply into the couch as he boasted a lazy grin and wink combo. "you all said what i was gonna say. can't even think up an appropriate pun. ya really killin' me here, y'know."

"Really?" Toriel questioned. "I do not think that's entirely true, Sans. I see a ton of usable material here."

Sans opened both sockets. "'s that so?"

Papyrus blanched. "OH NO."

"Yup!" Toriel winked. "A _skele_ -ton!"

Papyrus groaned loudly as, not only Sans and Toriel snickered, but also several other of the room's occupants giggled at the lame pun. "UUGGH, FRISK! LET US LEAVE THESE COMEDIANS TO THEIR FROLIC! WE'VE A PATH TO SELF-FORGIVENESS TO GET YOU STARTED ON! AND THAT PATH STARTS WITH- OH WAIT. NO. WE CAN'T START _THERE_. WE'RE STILL SNOWED IN." The tall skeleton wore a pondering expression for a few moments, then his face lit up with the spark of an idea. "NO MATTER! THE WAY DOWN THE PATH'S ALREADY BEGUN ONCE YOU'VE DECIDED TO FOLLOW IT! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"

A soft chuckle came from Frisk's mouth, which was still hidden against the skeleton's red cape. "I love you, Papyrus..."

Papyrus' brows furrowed. "NYEH HEH...I ALREADY KNEW THAT, FRISK," he chuckled nervously, a few drops of sweat coating his skull. "BUT, UH, YOU KNOW I CANNOT RECIPROCATE-"

The shake of Frisk's head stopped Papyrus' gentle letdown. "Not like that," they clarified, their arms further wrapping around his skeletal neck. "I love you...like you're my _big brother_..."

At first, Papyrus was too stunned to even speak. Then, after a few seconds-

"OOOOOOO _OOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!_ "

It was like a volcano of joy had erupted. His face sporting the biggest smile he'd ever smiled, his sockets welling with tears, Papyrus began running around the coffee table because he just couldn't contain his delight. "OOOHHHHH MY GOD _OH MY GOD_ SANS!! SANS DID YOU _HEAR THAT_?!" He stopped running around the table, and instead ran in place as he stopped in front of where his brother sat on the couch, an absolutely ecstatic expression on his face. "TH-THEY SAID I'M LIKE THEIR _BIG BROTHER_!! _I'M A BIG BROTHER, SANS!!!_ "

"good for you, bro," Sans congratulated the taller skeleton with a wink and a thumbs-up.

"WAIT. WAIT! THAT MEANS!" It was surprising that Papyrus' smile was able to grow bigger, but it did. And it was directed directly at the shorter skeleton on the couch. "THAT MEANS _YOU'RE_ THEIR BIG BROTHER, TOO!!"

Sans' smile lessened, surprise showing in his sockets. "o-oh?"

Before he could put in another word, Papyrus scooped one of his arms down and snatched Sans up into his embrace. "OH, GLORIOUS DAY OF DAYS!!" the taller skeleton gushed, tears streaming down his cheekbones. "WE HAVE A NEW ADDITION TO OUR FAMILY, SANS!!"

Sans, initially rattled by the sudden embrace, chuckled a sigh as he wrapped one arm around his brother's shoulder, both to support himself and to return the hug. "is that how it is, frisk?" he then asked Frisk, a sincerely curious look in his sockets as he met the child's gaze. "do you see me as your big bro sans?"

Frisk, one arm still around Papyrus' neck and the other wiping their nose on the back of their shirt sleeve, nodded, but it was hesitant. "I mean, i-if that's okay with you..."

The shorter skeleton looked shocked for the briefest of moments. Then, his smile widening, he reached his free hand over to playfully ruffle Frisk's already ruffled-up hair. "'course it is, kiddo. _tibia_ honest, i always liked the idea of having a big family."

Frisk giggled at the pun. Papyrus groaned at it. "Then, I guess you're gonna get what you want, after all!"

Sans wore a questioning look, as did Papyrus. Frisk beamed. "Because, it's not just you guys-" They turned their head to look over at Toriel. "-or just you, Mom. It's...all of you."

They tried their best to look around at everyone gathered. Tears streamed down their face, but their beaming smile remained the same. "You're... You're _all_ my family!" They sniffled loudly. Their smile grew bigger. "A-And I _love_ you all _so much_!"

If there was a dry eye in the room before, there certainly wasn't one anymore.

"Oh, _Frisk_!" Toriel wept as she threw her arms around the skeleton brothers, and nuzzled the side of her face against her adopted child's head. "We all love you, too!"

"This truly is the most glorious of days!" Mettaton crooned as he, with the help of his extendable arms, caught everyone in the hug into his own embrace. "Ooohhh, I can't wait to tell Blooky all about it tomorrow!"

Undyne, who was usually not one for sappy moments, threw her arms up in the air. "Oh, what the heck! GROUP HUG!!" She then snatched Alphys up off the floor, and made them both join in the collective hug. "And since were family now, Frisk, I expect to see you bright and early for training in the mornings! Fuhuhuhu!"

"F-Family..." Alphys muttered through the tears dribbling down her scales. A genuinely happy smile on her face, she spread her arms wide to embrace everyone she could in this group hug. "I-I _really_ like the sound of that..!"

Asgore, the last to join in, wrapped his big arms around the whole group. His hands were able to meet. "It really feels nice...to be part of a family again," he whispered, giving everyone a small squeeze. "Thank you, Frisk."

"Y-Yeah! Thank you, Frisk!"

"Thanks, ya wimp!"

"Thank you, darling!"

"A THOUSAND THANK YOU'S, FRISK!!"

"thanks, kiddo."

"Thank you, my precious child."

\----

How silly you feel now, for thinking everyone would hate your guts for telling them everything.

You feel their arms around you. You feel their love pouring over you. You feel your doubts and fears being cast aside, being burnt up in the magical fire still burning in the fireplace. There is no room for fears and doubts now. There is only room for you, and for your _family_.

You had been mistaken before. _This_ is the most perfect moment of your life.

"see? what'd i tell ya?"

The hushed voice catches your attention. It's coming from directly across from you, barely a breath's distance away. You open your eyes, and through your tears, you see Sans' face, see the overjoyed curve of his smile, see the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of his sockets, see the proud, loving look he's giving you as he reminds you, in tender honesty, "everything's gonna be okay now."

You doubt your smile can grow any bigger than how big it is now. You close your eyes, squeezing more tears out, and start to sob and laugh at the same time. You feel the cool touch of his bony hand on the side of your cheek, and place your hand over his, clinging to it. Then you feel another cool touch of bone against your forehead. Was it his forehead touching yours? Was it his chin? Or was it...?

You don't really care what it is anymore. All you care about now is just...staying like this, for however long it'll afford you to let it. Even when it ends, you're going to cherish this moment forever.

And that fills you with the greatest amount of determination you've felt in a long time.


End file.
